A Survivor's Story
by Wheatbread
Summary: I AM LEGEND. Jeremy Carter, 23 yr old survivor in Queens, NYC, finds resisting plague and vampires is nearly as devastating as the Loneliness—until certain events change things forever...
1. Chapter 1 Survivor

_This fan fiction is based on the 2007 movie I Am Legend, starring Will Smith, which was based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of the mention of Dr. Alice Krippin from the movie._

**Survivor**

Jeremy Carter had been one of the many, an unlucky citizen, trapped in Manhattan the night they bombed the bridges in New York City, effectively quarantining the area. Weeks after the pullout, the military was still posting guard to be sure no one else came across to the mainland. They had said on the news that the plan was to contain the plague on the island, at "ground zero." But it was too late. Even the best doctors and scientists working on a solution could not have foreseen that this deceptive virus was already silently spreading across the globe in and amongst their own numbers. It would be only months before ninety percent of the world's human population was dead.

Jeremy's own father had been treated for cancer with the new "cure" developed by Dr. Alice Krippin. Everyone said the cure was saving millions of victims the world over. They'd been saying it for several months. What no one could have predicted, however, was that the genetically altered measles-virus used to fight and destroy cancer would also eventually turn into the most deadly plague the world had ever seen. Sadly, the people who had not already died from the plague were surviving only to become bloodthirsty creatures of the night, their minds crazed from the devastating changes the disease inflicted in their bodily chemistry to the point that their behavior hardly even resembled the humanity they once were. Or, they were people like Jeremy—the other one percent of the world's population who were naturally immune to the deadly disease, but were surviving only to be hunted and killed by the vampires in the night.

It was no kind of life, but try as he might, Jeremy couldn't just roll over and die. Sometimes at night, when the tortured howls of the street vampires echoed through the halls of his secured townhouse, the twenty-three year old machinist would lie on his bed wishing he could do just that. _Die._ It would be easier than to go on living in terror like this, alone, without hope.

All of that changed one day while he was foraging in apartments for food and any other useful provisions he could carry off. He happened to open a bedroom door and heard movement from inside the closet. The M-16 hanging from his shoulder was a relic from bygone war years—back before he'd been thought of—but it jumped immediately to his shoulder just the same, the panic and impulse to riddle the room with lead nearly overtaking him.

He fought off the first wave of fear. It could be a vampire, he told himself, hiding in there from the daylight which all of them seemed to dread so much. Jeremy forced himself to stand his ground. Or, it could also be someone like himself, though he hadn't seen another soul for…he'd forgotten how long. Months? Years?

His voice sounded strange to him when he called out now, the stress and lack of use taking their tolls on his vocal chords. "If someone is in there and you are not infected, I mean you no harm. Come out in the light where I can see you."

Silence.

Jeremy brought the gun up tighter. He didn't like this at all. The vampires usually fled from any source of ultraviolet light, like the kind streaming in through the windows of the apartment. Even this southwest-corner bedroom was well lit. But sometimes—he had seen it himself—they might venture into the light for brief moments, if they were hungry enough and thought they could jump a victim quickly.

And they could move quickly! He had seen it—the pale and ravished form of a naked man or woman springing out from a darkened haunt, suddenly upon an unsuspecting victim, bloody teeth gnashing and throat roaring with rage and venom. Their movements were always surprisingly energetic, considering how terrible their physical condition appeared: white, melanin-less skin, bruised and bloody from the constant self-mutilation the disease inflicted on them from within.

Twice he had lost companions to the monsters in the daylight, even though he had retaliated as quickly as possible, spraying bullets into the vampires. The first time he had managed to kill the beast, a female, though not before she had mortally wounded the young poet he had been patrolling with. The young man—"Rex" he had called himself—had died in Jeremy's arms. He closed his eyes at the recollection, but it was nothing compared to the other memory that still gave him nightmares.

The second time in daylight that he lost a "brother"—that's what the survivors called one another because it felt that way to lose one—a large male had madly attacked from the shadows, launching himself into the dimming light to reach the nearer of the two men. The vampire had struck and then turned blindly and received Jeremy's bullets in the chest, screamed defiantly at him and the pain of the sunlight boiling his flesh, and then dragged the still-living body of Jeremy's best friend after him into the darkness of a department store. It all happened so fast that Jeremy had been left emotionally and physically drained for weeks with no one to talk to about the pain and fear he was feeling. When he had finally begun to emerge from his isolation, his own hunger driving him, the rest of his acquaintances were gone. He had never learned what happened to them, though he suspected they were all either dead or had left the city in search of safer havens. But, from the stories he had heard of the outside, any ideas of a safer place than this were mythological at best. The entire world had gone crazy, almost overnight.

Jeremy swallowed hard and tried to calm his trembling hands. The muzzle end of his M-16 was shaking so badly it was difficult to keep it trained on the closet door.

He called out again. "I said, 'If anyone is in there…!'"

There was a small gasp-like whimper from the closet. Jeremy's ears involuntarily twitched forward, listening. That didn't sound like a vampire. Suddenly he started thinking more about his surroundings. The apartment was in fairly good condition, not trashed, which would have been the case if a vampire had taken up residence for any length of time. And this particular building did not seem to have any of the outward signs of the usual monster vandalism about it, at least that he had seen. He was far from dropping his guard, but the observation did lend some courage to his feet.

Stepping forward, Jeremy reached over and lifted a toy stick-horse from the corner. This was a child's bedroom, he thought. He held the toy by its head and tapped the stick once against the mahogany door. His left hand continued to train the gun. Inside, he could hear it now, the unmistakable sound of a child whimpering.

He dropped the stick and raked the door open with his free hand, jumping back and holding the M-16 ready. What he saw looking up at him from the closet floor took his breath away. There seated before him with fearful eyes was a dirty faced little girl, maybe four years old at best. She stared back at him through matted blonde locks, her blue eyes widening at the sight of the gun in his hands. The tiny girl looked up at him and began to weep aloud…


	2. Chapter 2 Angel

_This fan fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which was based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own._

**Angel **

"Hush Baby," said Jeremy taking the child by the hand and pulling her to her feet. She stopped crying and did not cower from him as he expected, but raised her tiny arms to him as she stood. Her tear-stained eyes were still worried, but as he lifted her she buried her face in his shoulder and he could feel her tiny body relax into him almost immediately. He stood there, his rifle hanging awkwardly at his side as he held the little girl to him. Bewildered, he heard himself whisper, "Don't cry. Don't cry."

What had happened to her parents? How could a child of this age survive without someone to care for her? It was too crazy for him to understand just yet. And the girl was not in a talking mood. He let her doze in his arms as he scrawled a message on the door of the apartment, explaining where he was taking the child, should her people return.

He doubted they would ever return, though, judging from the girl's appearance. She had been cared for, probably up until just a few days ago, but she had been hiding in the apartment alone, eating dried dog food from the pantry and drinking from a dwindling supply of Evian bottled water when he found her. Jeremy suspected that her custodians had been killed by the vampires while foraging in the city. They had simply never come home.

He looked down at her, now asleep in his arms, as he walked out of the building into the street to his waiting Hummer. He felt his heart melt at the sight of her. She was so innocent and needy, so fragile. She would slow him down, he knew it. But there was something powerful about having someone to depend on him, someone he would be able to talk to again. He had been incredibly lucky to have walked into that one particular apartment in all the city and found her. _Or maybe,_ he thought, _not lucky…but…maybe there is a God, after all. _In that moment he suddenly felt alive again for the first time in a long time.

Driving through the city now Jeremy felt more secure in the Hummer. Out of habit he kept his eyes open for any signs of game. There were herds of wild deer that frequented these streets, and it was not unlikely that he might bag one if he got the opportunity. His usual style was more of the silent stalking type, rather than to give chase with a vehicle, but having the girl with him he didn't want to leave her alone in the car for any length of time. It was also more risky to expose himself on foot the way he often did. Besides deer, there were man eating carnivores on the prowl. Big cats, some wolves. He figured they must have escaped from the zoo in the chaos that followed the breakout of the plague. And they usually hunted later in the daylight hours instead of at night, probably because of the threat of vampires in the city. Even the wild animals were afraid of the plague, instinctively avoiding the darkness when the human monsters came out of the shadows in hordes.

He looked down at the girl, curled and asleep in the seat next to him and realized he would have to be more careful than ever, for her sake, to plan his movements. He would either have to bring her along with him, or he would have to leave her for short periods of time. His schedule would be on a shorter tether than he was used to. Things were going to have to be different now, that was all.

Just then, Jeremy saw something up ahead. There was a flash of brown fur darting among the parked cars. It was a deer, he was sure. He thought he had seen antlers shadowed against the buildings as the animal had moved out of sight. His stomach rumbled inside him at the thought of fresh venison. But what could he do? He nodded down at Sleeping Beauty. It was time to take her home and lock things down for the night.

Jeremy turned the Hummer at the corner and headed for home. This was the Queens area, which had always been relatively safer than other parts of the city. He had returned here after a long and trying stay in Manhattan after the plague had broken out. Back to his rented apartment where he had taken over the entire townhouse and dug himself in to stay. These were his streets, his hood. During the day he owned it all. Even here, though, he didn't dare expose himself too much once the daylight began to drop. He would need to hurry, too, as the shadows were already beginning to appear.

The Hummer stopped in front of the house and he carried the girl in one arm and a bottle of white distilled vinegar in the other, splashing his trail and washing away their scent from the sidewalk as they went up to the door. This was a habit that all survivors had developed shortly after the outbreak. Something about the disease had sharpened the animal senses of the vampires. They could smell fresh meat for blocks. Vinegar took away the smell, so it had quickly become a precious commodity in the city after the quarantine, but now Jeremy could find it readily in most of the abandoned houses and apartments he looted. Sometimes there were whole cases of it cached in basements or pantries, leftovers from a people who no longer had any use for it.

The little girl woke in his arms as they entered the safe house. She brushed the hair from her eyes and surveyed the front room but made no attempt to get away from him. He turned and swung the locks shut behind them and noticed how she watched the process with unattached interest, like she had either seen it all before, or was in some deep state of shock so that things like this did not surprise her. He had built the steel deadbolt system into every door and window in the place. There were also steel shutters, but he didn't bother with them yet. It was still daylight out there.

Jeremy grabbed a flashlight from the fireplace mantle as he set the girl down into a reclining armchair. She sat quietly watching him as he unslung the rifle and placed it into a safe near the door. It was common practice among the survivors to keep handguns all over the house, tucked here and there in little cubbies, but the rifles were usually kept near the door in a cabinet, along with other necessities like ammunition and cleaning equipment. He looked back over his shoulder at the girl and decided against locking the safe. He usually left it open whenever he was home, wanting all his weapons near at hand in the event of a "necessity." But if the girl turned out to be too curious for her own good, he wouldn't have a problem with locking all the guns down. He could still get to them quickly enough.

He stood at the basement door and could still see her sitting there. So far she had not spoken to him and he wondered if she would. But when he felt the impulse to find out, something held him back. It might feel too pushy. Instead, he extended a hand and held it out to her. She crawled out of the chair and came to him as if he was not a stranger at all. Her tiny hand grasped his and the two of them descended the basement steps together.

It was dark down there with no sources of natural light and Jeremy flicked on the battery powered torch. He watched the little girl who seemed to be more cautious about the darkness of the basement. The entire house was new to her, and he wondered if the basement might seem eerie with only the light of the flashlight bouncing around on things. But she must have felt safe with Jeremy, for though he felt her hand close more tightly on his, she did not pull back.

There were several nooks and niches in the basement large enough to conceal a hidden monster if any had been down there, but Jeremy knew the house was secure. He had long ago learned to vanquish worries about a break in, sure that his extra precautions would keep vampires out unless they had some reason to come in, and if he was not there, he was pretty sure none would try. He had done everything he could think of to make the house a peaceful refuge for both his body and his mind. That said, it had still been a discipline to force his imagination to kindly keep itself at bay when he was home. For that reason he was impressed by the girl's trust in him. While his own sense of security rested in the armor and design of the house, hers seemed to be in him, a complete stranger.

Jeremy led the way to the generator and released her hand long enough to check the oil and fuel. He turned to her and smiled. "Let there be light," he said, his finger pushing the starter button. The generator roared to life making the girl jump a little and grab at his hand again. But the lights also came on and he saw a pretty smile form on her smudged face as he carried her back up the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3 Together

_This fan fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which was based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own._

**Together **

The girl was glad when the two of them reached the top of the stairs. She didn't like the basement, it was scary. But the man was with her now. She felt his strong arms around her and everything seemed like it would be okay. She had felt that right away when he had first picked her up. Still, she did not yet know him. He seemed good, but who was he? Did he know her Mama? Maybe Mama would come soon. The girl would wait and see. Mama always said, "Wait and see…"

The man set her down at the top of the stairs and she followed close behind him down the hallway and to the bathroom. He reached down and picked her up again and this time set her on the bathroom sink.

"Time to see what you look like," he said, wetting a cloth under the running water. He looked down at her and smiled.

She was marveling at the steamy water coming from the tap. She had forgotten that water came from those. And warm water, too. She closed her eyes and allowed the man to wash her face. He took a long time and was very thorough but it felt so good to be getting clean. The little girl did not complain. She sat very quietly and let him work on her. He cleaned her face and neck and arms and hands. Then he took the stockings from her feet and washed her toes and soles by filling the basin with water. It felt so good to soak. And the man promised to let her use the tub after dinner if she wanted. She nodded vigorously and smiled back at him. That seemed to make him happy.

"You are a lovely 'lung' lady," he said to her with a laugh that sounded warm. He picked her up, carried her back to the living room and placed her in the chair. Then he turned on the electric fire in the fireplace and what had appeared to be cold dead logs suddenly burst into life. That was very interesting. The man told her to wait there and he went out the front door for a few minutes. She watched the mysterious flames licking at the porcelain logs and wondered where the man had gone. She was just beginning to get really concerned when he suddenly reappeared. In his hands he carried an empty bottle of vinegar and…some clothing and slippers that were about her sizes!

"I had to do some shopping next door," he explained, helping her into some new stockings. The stockings and slippers were a little big but she liked the pajamas he had found. It was a pink two-piece and the top had the picture of a beautiful princess with butterfly wings on its front. The pajamas had ruffles that were smooth to her fingers. She kept petting them while the man walked around sealing off the house. He went to each window, closing bolts and steel shutters. She watched as the afternoon daylight was gradually being shut completely out of their apartment. It would keep the bad people away. The girl was fascinated at how easy he made it seem, like the lockdown was something she could do herself, maybe.

He laughed when he noticed her following behind him. Standing back to allow her room he let her take the lead to the next window. He seemed very pleased that she was able to work the latch when he showed her where to pull. The deadbolts slid into place. And then she grasped the lever for the shutters and was able to make them close as well. "I can see you are going to be a lot of help," the man said. He pointed to the lock and explained that it was the most important part. "Easy as one-two-three," he said as she pushed the pin into its hole. But she had done it all before. She remembered. Some places were like this house, but this one was definitely the most easiest.

"I designed these enclosures myself." The man looked around at the fortification. "I installed them all over the city in a lot of the survivor's homes in the early days after…" "Doesn't let any light out or in, and I'm going to make the entire place sound proof as well." He looked down at her. "For sure, now that you are here, I'll get started on that real soon." They studied each other for a while.

Then the apartment was secure. The outside world was gone, it seemed. The man showed her to a bedroom with a small bed in it. "Please excuse the little boy stuff in here," he said. "My son…" and he didn't finish the sentence. He told her she could relax there or take a bath while he made supper. And then he went out of the room.

She went over to the little bed and put her hands on it. It was nice. It had a picture on the top cover of a little blue train engine with a happy face. "Thomas…" she whispered.

When the man returned to call her for supper the girl was fast asleep in the bed, resting securely in comfort for the first time that she could remember. She stirred only slightly as she felt him tucking her in. He turned out the light. "Pleasant dreams," he whispered and thoughtfully left the door open a crack for a nightlight behind him. Warm sleepiness came up around her again and she drifted away in peace and safety. She could eat tomorrow. For now, she was just too…sleepy...


	4. Chapter 4 History

_This fan fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which was based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own._

**History **

The low din of the generator in the basement had nearly become background noise to his ears as it did every night. Jeremy once worried the sound would attract vampires to his hideout, but after some experiments with generators running in neighboring homes he had decided that the creatures either did not notice the sound, or that it just did not entice them. Like most survivors he had his theories about the psychology of the infected. He believed they were driven purely by hunger for fresh blood. And having lost most or all of their human intelligence, the obvious drone of a motor somewhere in the night did not register as a potential food source for them. _So far anyway_, thought Jeremy.

He was sitting on the sofa in front of the artificial fire. He drew his long legs up to his chest as he leaned his back against the armrest. He was thinking about the girl. What a day it had been, finding her.

He took another forkful from the bowl of cold chicken salad he was eating. Usually he ate a cold supper, not wanting to risk filling the outside air with the smells of cooking as sunset drew near. He maintained several gardens around the neighborhood, having studied up on gardening after the initial madness in the city had begun to wear off…or feel normal. And he could always open a can of chicken or some other meat for protein and make a cold sandwich with home-made bread. He had learned that skill too. It was "okay," but he was getting tired of the usual fair. He took another bite of the salad and set the bowl down, wondering vaguely if there was a way to draw all his cooking fumes through enough filters…or to compress them into a bottle somehow and shoot them off into the bay…or something.

His mind crept back to the girl. What kinds of food would she like? He couldn't believe she'd been too tired to eat. But then again, anybody could see she felt safe with him. She probably hadn't slept in days.

Jeremy caught himself thinking about her lying in there in his son's bed. Little Ben had been only three and a half when the boy had begun staying with him on weekends. The situation with Ben's mother had been difficult….She and Jeremy had both been so young when they met, but Jeremy had wanted to be a good father and Sylvia was good enough to recognize that father and son needed each other. Jeremy swallowed hard at the memory. It always triggered other thoughts. The whole sequence of what had happened, how he had lost them all, it started rolling back on him as the last bite of his salad died a slow and painful death between clenched teeth.

* * *

A lot of people had been dying already from the Krippin virus when reports of a new type of contagious insanity started hitting the news. It had been in the papers for a few days and had started with the dog attacks. Jeremy was not quite twenty, at work on his lunch break, and idly listening to some of his co-workers discussing how the infection was spreading to humans. Someone mentioned he'd witnessed a man on the subway the night before going into some sort of fit.

"That guy was just sitting there, reading his newspaper like nothing was wrong…and then I look up and he's shaking it around and tearing it…and his face looks all white and slimy…the next thing you know he's drooling and growling." People had shied from the strange behavior, but the man had to be subdued at the next stop. "Man, he was nuts! Tearin' at his hand cuffs, foamin' at the mouth. I thought he was going to break his own arms the way he was fighting. They took 'im in to the hospital but then I heard this morning the guy escaped for a while and started biting people. _Biting_ people, dude."

Jeremy went home that night thinking more about his own dad than about the weird stories. His old man was a fighter. He had licked cancer, pulling out the big guns with the Krippin vaccine, but now it looked bad for him with this new epidemic. The doctors didn't know anything about it yet. A lot of people were sick and some had already passed. It was just a matter of time, they said. They wouldn't let anyone near the man, either. "We believe it's highly contagious," they had told Jeremy. That was the worst part. He couldn't even get in to talk with his own father.

That had all happened yesterday. When he tried calling to see how things were going his mother did not come to the phone. And the hospital's lines were all busy. What was going on?

For some reason that night the subways weren't running. He was just boarding the bus when he heard the sirens and saw people running. There was a woman screaming up ahead and Jeremy caught his first glimpse of one of the Infected as it leapt up from the body of a man it had attacked on the street and fled down the street, something dangling from its mouth. Jeremy couldn't believe any man could move that fast, its low-slung gait seeming more ape-like than human. His blood ran cold as he reached the corpse and saw for himself what the madman had done. Blood everywhere, clothing ripped in wet red shreds, and the guy's left arm…wasn't there.

That was really when the city wide panic started. By the next morning, news of attacks all over Manhattan were flooding the papers and the televised media was having a heyday with it. Jeremy couldn't even make it in to work because the subways and buses were not running. He tried calling Sylvia to make sure she and Ben were okay, but she didn't answer her cell phone. They lived in Manhattan with some of her friends. He waited until mid afternoon, worry consuming him until he just had to do something.

Catching a cab wasn't easy, but he managed to bribe a driver into taking him to the other island. It was just starting to get really insane when they arrived. Jeremy was stunned to see all the military activity with choppers overhead and soldiers running in groups with their rifles. Their camouflage chemical suits and dust masks gave the scene a serious tone. It looked like they had begun mobilizing to seal off on the island. The cabby wouldn't take him any further so Jeremy got out and hoofed it until he saw another cab waiting at a curb and ran up to it.

"Hey, Buddy, I need you to take…" Jeremy's voice trailed off. This cabby was leaning way over into the passenger seat, groaning like he was dying. Jeremy took a closer look. The man's face was a strange paleness and seemed drenched with moisture. Jeremy backed away. The cabby was either entering the throes of death or about to go mad on him. He turned and ran.

Down the street a little further, he noticed that everyone else seemed to be going the other way. Jeremy saw a bicycle and decided to grab it. He was not in the habit of taking things, but this was an emergency. He got on and headed for Sylvia's place. It was a struggle going against the flow of pedestrian traffic, but with his maneuverability on the bike he was able to zig and zag until he turned up her street and arrived at the building, panting as he walked the stolen bicycle up the sidewalk to the door.

Sylvia answered as soon as he called on the intercom. She buzzed the door release, letting him into the lobby and he took the stairs at a run up to her level. Little Ben was glad to see him and came running with arms held high. Jeremy swooped him up and noted that Sylvia seemed relieved as well.

"Hey," said Jeremy.

"Jeremy, I'm so glad you're here! The city is going crazy. I wanted to get out of here but your mother called and said it was too dangerous."

"You heard from my mom?" Jeremy couldn't help himself, he had to know. "Did she say anything about…?"

Sylvia looked down at the floor and then up at little Ben who was busy rubbing at the stubble on Jeremy's chin. "Honey, I think you need to go play in your room for a while. You can show your daddy how you made your bed this morning in a little bit, okay?"

Jeremy let the boy slide down his leg and watched him run off. Sylvia looked at him, tears sparkling in her dark eyes. She rushed to him and he caught her in his arms. "Oh Jeremy," she said, as the unspoken reality began to set in on him. "I'm so sorry." He knew without hearing any more. It was his father…


	5. Chapter 5 Night

_This fan fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which was based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of the mention of Dr. Robert Neville from the movie._

**Night **

Jeremy had fallen into a restless sleep on the sofa. He awoke to the sounds of tortured howls in the streets outside. The Infected did not come this way every night but it was often enough that the twenty-three year old was not surprised. Tonight of all nights, however, he had really hoped the neighborhood would be peaceful, for the girl's sake. But here they were, out there again.

He could hear them plainly now, just outside. He would not bother watching the camera monitors or counting how many this time. He'd studied them all until it was sickening to him. What was it that drove them, in packs, to wander these abandoned wastes of the city, wailing for food like hungry beggars? It should have been obvious that there weren't enough normal human beings left to support a ravenous multitude? Hadn't been for a very long time. He imagined then that by this time the Infected survived only by catching animals in the night, not an ounce of fresh blood going to waste. So why come here? Were they getting more and more desperate? Perhaps they were simply wandering, anything to distract ravaged minds from the gnawing need for raw flesh.

Jeremy sat up and concentrated, listening. The girl had not made a peep from her room, but maybe he should look in on her. He got up, tiptoed to the door of her room, and pushed it open enough to see the bed.

She was sitting up, her face turned toward the shuttered window. When the door creaked she looked his way and he saw her worried expression. He self-consciously realized how he must look, silhouetted in the doorway, so he opened it a bit further, came in and sat on the edge of the little bed. She hugged her knees to her chest under the wrinkled face of the little blue tank engine and stared up at him.

"Kinda scary, huh?" he said.

The girl said nothing but he thought he saw her chin drop a little in affirmation. Her wide blue eyes shone in the light from the hallway and Jeremy's heart went out to her. _So fragile,_ he thought, _Such a little girl in such a crazy, mixed up, terrible world._ The empathy must have shown on his face. They reached for each other at about the same moment and he held her for a long time in his arms, rocking gently while the howls and moans from the street outside carried on into the night. And his thoughts returned to his musings…

* * *

Sylvia's friends were willing to let Jeremy stay. Everyone thought at first the government would eventually find a way to rescue the healthy survivors still quarantined on the island. But increasingly it became clear that the plague was spreading. Television newscasts were filled with stories and images of the attacks left on the shrinking defenses of the healthy. Eventually, even the newscasts would dribble to a stop. But at the beginning, there was enough open communication to give the trapped and still-healthy ones a basic understanding of what was happening, both in their part of the city and in the outside world.

It was not long before the survivors in Manhattan had banded together, networking and helping one another to prepare defenses against what was becoming a nightmare's existence for everyone. The population of Manhattan was in a fatal reduction, but at the same time it was undergoing a conversion. With hundreds dying from the plague every day, there were also scores "defecting to the infection" as the phrase was coined. Some people apparently had enough initial resistance to the disease that they were not done in by it. Not exactly. But it did take their minds away, bringing them into its service, and made them into the enemy. Perfect Sun Tzu tactics. No one knew who would go next, or who they would be fighting against tomorrow.

Soon, the ratio of living people to Infected would slip to the no-return threshold…until the numbers had slid past one another and changed places in the night. It was a bleak and staggering truth, but the healthy living were not going down without a fight. Those in league would work together, each offering his and her own particular skill to the effort.

During the day hours they set up patrols, going in groups of twos and threes, trying to determine exact locations of "hives" where the Infected kept themselves hidden. There were those among the survivors who knew how to define problems and resources, to lay out plans and call shots. And there were workers to carry out the necessary orders. Jeremy took his turn on watch, and then also worked with other skilled survivors to design complete security systems which could be installed quickly in as many strategic homes in the area as possible.

But there was also a second purpose for the day patrols. As insane as it seemed, there were actually roving gangs of the criminally minded—healthy cons—who were more disposed to killing other survivors in order to harvest their stockpiles, than to joining forces with them against the common enemy. Those that were not for you were against you. Danger was on every side day and night, with surviving gangs of killers dividing the efforts of the healthy until much attention and energy had to be taken away from the war against the vampires and expended instead on fighting this social cancer on a second front. It was a bitter irony. Mankind would be his own destruction yet, in spite of the plague.

Days stretched into weeks and Jeremy and the others with him gradually lost all contact with family members outside the building where they lived. Jeremy was lucky in that someone who knew for sure came by with the news that his mother had succumbed to the plague. It was difficult to take and he was little good for a few days, but in the end he decided it was better than not knowing what had happened. There were others who were left wondering, and it seemed to eat at them constantly. Jeremy's main consolation in all of this was in coming home to his son each night, and to Sylvia.

Sylvia seemed different to him. It could have been the fact that they had been thrown into this conflict together—or maybe it was simply the fact that her mother wasn't around to influence her and divide them—but the pretty, dark-haired nineteen year old seemed sweeter than he had remembered, more kind. She had been doing some growing up herself. It felt good to Jeremy, like somehow in all of this they were becoming a real family, the way it should have been from the start.

In their off time they watched Ben and took part in his games, playing hide-and-seek together in the building, and during daylight hours while he interacted with some of the other children in the sand lot outside they would sit together and talk as often as they could. Jeremy found out stuff about Sylvia that he had never known, like how she had wanted to be a veterinarian some day…before the plague had come.

"Well, you are already working with the vets now on this virus thing," offered Jeremy, sitting close to her. "I'd say you are getting a good start."

She had smiled at him, at the kindness of the gesture, but shook her head. It wasn't really what was bothering her. "This is different," she said. "All we do is dissect people's dead pets—that our feeble attempts at vaccination have failed on. Dr. Neville needs the data, but it isn't like being a real vet and helping animals." She closed her eyes, finally getting to the real issue. "I worry, Jeremy. I worry every day about the world we are trying to bring up our son in. What kind of life will be left for him, even if we ever do get through this thing?"

Jeremy squinted hard at the sidewalk. Could he let her know he worried about the same thing? Something inside kept him from it. Pride, or the feeling that he needed to be the strong one for her sake. He found himself telling her that things would work out, that everything would be "good" again, that they would get through it.

She hadn't believed a word. But she had sat there and sighed and leaned back into him all the same, appreciating the comfort of his presence at least, if not his words. Jeremy kept her in his arms, his thoughts racing from one thing to the next. What if she was right? _What if all of this is for nothing. There is always the Present. That counts, doesn't it? Sylvia. Ben_. And him with them, protecting them.

He had looked in on them the next morning as he prepared to go out and join Jonathon and the poet for patrol shift. Sylvia and Ben still slept together in one bedroom and Jeremy stayed on the sofa in the front room. When he had tried to change the arrangement she had gently held him back, explaining with a nod toward their son. "Look what happened the last time, Jeremy." He admired her even more for her resolve, for the determination she had about her convictions. It wasn't right to take the chance. She was the strong one, not him. She always was.

Jeremy had left them that morning. They would all be gone when he returned.

* * *

The night howls had died away into the distance and Jeremy found himself still holding the little girl. She was asleep again at last. He gently tucked her into the bed and glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. It would be daylight again soon. _Today,_ he thought, _Today we will begin soundproofing this place._

**A/N: Thank you all for the kind reviews and your patience. I promise there is action coming soon. Still building some background. Let me know if something needs tweaking here or there. I appreciate helpful criticism.**


	6. Chapter 6 Emotion

_This fan fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of Robert Neville._

**Emotion **

They had begun early that morning right after breakfast. Jeremy took them in the Hummer to the nearest parking garage where he kept several vehicles in storage. They first went around to each rig and the girl waited as he got out and checked and started each one to let them run for a few minutes. He had six special vehicles up there, with all but one decked out similar to his Hummer with razor wire and armor plating. Each had batteries equipped with trickle-chargers connected to extension cords that led to solar generators on the roof. The storage vehicles all had tanks filled with treated gasoline or diesel so he didn't have to worry about fuel going bad. And he kept all the engines lubed with Slick 50 oil treatment and changed oil every three months whether they got used or not. It was one of those things that helped occupy his mind and life. Now that the girl was with him he could see himself letting go of some of the routine things.

This was his "Emergency Garage One" and he had others like it, smaller versions, in different areas of the city. He really only had to check each location about once a month, but since he was here anyway he went ahead and looked everything over. All of the vehicles checked out except the Camaro, which happened to be the one car that differed in that it was not armored. Something had come along and tripped over the cable, yanking the cord from its charger. But when he turned the key in the ignition the vehicle roared to life and the gauge showed full battery power, so the incident had been recent. How recent he wasn't sure.

Jeremy turned the key off, got back out and looked around suspiciously. The parking garage was well lit on this end but there were some shadows deeper in. His fingers played meaningfully over the trigger guard of the ever ready M-16 at his side as he thought about how early in the day it still was. He walked back over to the Hummer. Still watching the shadows, he opened the passenger door and glanced down quickly at the girl.

"Let's go."

She climbed down and followed him back to a black Econoline cargo van. This was one of his favorites because of the extra armor. It had served as a security van for cash in transit bank use before the plague, but he and Jonathon—the tall Nigerian—had added their own touches, making it as impervious as they could to onslaughts from both gangs and vampires. The tires were "grenade-proof" as Jonathon had prescribed, and along with a Cadillac suspension system that they had modified and adapted, the ride's overall comfort hadn't suffered too much because of it. The vehicle was heavy but with the six liter Power Stroke V-8 turbo diesel, it could move when it needed to. And best of all it had plenty of space in the back for hauling things. He and Jonathon had made good use of this van back when they were catching live vampires for Dr. Nev…. Jeremy shook his head. _No._ _Don't start remembering all of that now. _He forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

He helped the girl up into the passenger seat and strapped her seatbelt for her. Glancing around again at the other cars and the shadows, he came around to the other side and got in. He was getting jumpy, he told himself. The sun was up, it was pouring in. It was going to be a good day for collecting.

The first stop with the van was Cityproof over on forty-third Avenue. It was home to one of New York's finest sources for soundproof windows. According to a survivors' lecture he had attended, windows were the biggest culprits for letting unwanted noise into and out of a building. There had been a short class on soundproofing houses for those willing to help modify the planning headquarters and some other strategic buildings. He, Rex and Jonathon had attended, but the work had never even begun, doomed to follow in the footsteps of most other projects the survivors started. Priority rating kept dropping because…. Jeremy sighed…_because people kept dropping like flies…until there was no one left for any more grand projects!_ He was doing it again, thinking too much. At any rate, he knew he would have to learn as he went along on this one. Maybe they would have some brochures inside.

The Cityproof buildings looked okay from the street, though a glance at the windows told him it would be pretty dark inside. He pulled around to the loading dock and parked in such a way that they could leave in a hurry, if they felt like it. He looked down at the girl and gave her a wink.

"You know," he said. He had started to reach for the rifle that lay between their seats but paused in sudden thought. "I never asked your name. Please accept my most heartfelt apologies." He held out his hand to the girl, a silly grin forming on his face. "My name is Jeremy Carter." He didn't know why he was doing this, it was a sudden whim, unless he just felt good because of the sunshine and the day. What if she didn't respond? What if she would _never_ talk to him? He was being silly. He had only found the girl yesterday. _Yesterday!_ It seemed like ages ago.

His right hand hovered between them. The girl looked from the hand up to his face and finally a smile came across hers as well. She reached out with her own, and grasped it. They shook hands. And then…she…giggled… Out loud!

It was the first time she had made an audible vocal sound, besides yesterday and then she had only cried. Jeremy didn't know what to make of it. Should he ask her name? What should he do? A name would be really helpful.

As he was thinking about this, the girl coughed lightly and solved the problem for him. "Pleased to meet you, Jeremy," she said suddenly in a soft ringing voice, as if it was the most painless and natural thing in all the world. Her blue eyes danced with humor and intelligence, and when she smiled Jeremy saw perfect little baby teeth in her mouth like pearls. She looked four, but there was no way she could _be_ four, not to talk like that, all grown up.

Jeremy was immediately ecstatic. A lovelier sound had never graced his ears than the sound of this little girl's voice, saying his name. He hadn't heard another human voice in conversation for so long. It felt like being a prisoner of war, kept in solitary confinement for years, and then suddenly…liberated! Forgotten ducts around his eyes opened and tears spilled out of them, brimming. His throat and chest suddenly had a good solid tightness to them and he began shaking slightly as he stared at her tiny wondering face. He hadn't felt this happy in all his life and he suddenly forgot all about the vampires or why they were even sitting here outside Cityproof, and why a lot of things. Who cared? She could talk. She could _talk!_

"You'd better tell me your name," Jeremy said, choking, "or I'm going to start calling you Wonder Girl or something."

"Okayyyy," she said, and he could almost hear mental gears going to work as her five-year-old negotiating powers kicked in. "Hmmm, I'll tell you my name…if…" and she glanced over at the steering wheel, "…you let _me_ drive." She placed a tiny hand on the wheel and sat there looking pleased with herself, smiling away from him and moving her head side to side slightly as if in time to a smug, secret rhythm.

It was too much for Jeremy. He started laughing, full of emotion. It was a deep cavernous kind of laugh that took minutes. Every time he looked over at her he would laugh more. "Okay," he finally managed, "If we ever get done here, you can drive."

"My name is Victoria Allison Cooper," she said, keeping her end of the bargain. It sounded like she was well rehearsed. No doubt her mother had been a careful teacher.

"Pleased to meet you, Victoria," said Jeremy. But it was another half an hour before he was able to leave the van. He found out that she was almost five and that her Mama always said she was small for her age. And that she liked chocolate, pizza, and Chinese food. And a bunch of other things…

**A/N: Next chapter gets a bit more exciting, I think. Update coming soon…**


	7. Chapter 7 Perspiration

_This fan fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of the mention of Dr. Neville._

**Perspiration **

He could have stayed there in the van all day talking with Victoria, but he remembered their quest for soundproofing materials and reluctantly reached over to hit a release button on the dash. The side cargo door slid open behind him. He went to it, put one knee on the floor of the van and an arm in toward the portable generator. Victoria came into the back and helped him release the wheel locks and he slid the stout little machine out to the edge of the doorframe and braced himself for lifting it.

It was no light feat and he got it to the loading dock as quickly as possible. It was really more of a two-man job and it reminded him that God only granted one spine per lifetime. He would need to be more careful, for the child's sake, maybe build some kind of hoist to lift the generator in the future. For now, he wheeled it carefully up to the door while Victoria waited in the van, engine idling. He went back, grabbed a few more items and locked her in, telling her to stay awake and watch for him if he came out running. She nodded and put her hand on the automatic door lock button to show him she understood.

It took a crowbar to get the warehouse door open and he pushed the generator in. It was dark inside and he flipped his night vision goggles on and stood there listening to the stillness. The door had been locked so chances were that there wasn't going to be a problem. Vampires didn't usually hang around keeping things locked and tidy. _Plus,_ he told himself, _there's no food around here…well, not before I came in anyway…so…_. In the dark his confidence always waned, and without fail he would begin talking to himself, listing the reasons why there was no need to be afraid. _I could encourage myself like this all day, the fact is, I'm terrified,_ he thought. _But a man's got to do what a man's got to…_

He had turned down another alley and was scanning the walls for signs of the electrical panel and suddenly spotted some large 4-inch metal conduits running down the far wall. The conduits led down behind some machines. There were some smaller pipes branching out from back there, too. "Bingo," Jeremy said. He cringed. The sound of his voice echoing in the warehouse was too much for his nerves and he inwardly vowed not to do that again.

He had done this kind of thing before. Putting a foot on the generator and giving it little shoves allowed him to keep his guard up while moving forward, and he began pushing it along in the direction of the pipes. He had the M-16 butt stock at shoulder level. All he had to do was to throw the muzzle end up a little higher and he could blast anything that moved, if need be. _But there isn't going to be any need now…is there, fellas?_

He stood way off to the side and peered around behind the machines_. Nothing moving back there. Good. Didn't think so._ He gave the generator a shove toward the panels. It swerved off to the right and bumped into a machine. The sound ricocheted in the large room and Jeremy crouched and scanned in all directions. _See? _He thought, trying to play off how nervous he was feeling._ Nobody in here but us chickens…_

Finally the panel was before him. He pulled a screwdriver from his back pocket and started taking the cover off as quickly as he could manage. His hands were trembling and sweaty and he had to stop for a break and wipe the perspiration from his face with the back of his sleeve._ After you drive me home, I'll let you buy me a drink._ He steadied the screwdriver and finished with the cover.

The thing to do was to back-feed the entire panel with the generator, which was pretty easy, if you knew how. Under normal conditions Jeremy knew he was supposed to first remove the meter from where the power came into the building so that he wouldn't also be back-feeding the whole line—through the transformers outside—and end up killing some poor utility worker across town. But since he hadn't seen any poor utility workers around for some time, he figured it was a moot point. _Aint nobody around here I wouldn't mind killing, 'Cept myself, and of course a certain small-for-her-age five year old._ He selected a large breaker that probably went to one of the machines and used the screwdriver to replace its wires with the ones to the leads of his generator. Then he reached down, turned the choke on, primed the fuel and gave the rope pull a yank.

The generator started and some of the lights overhead came on right away, dim at first but warming. _Night lights_. He scanned the circuit-listing on the panel cover and turned on a few more lights at the breaker box. Then he stepped back and looked around. There was an ancient forklift parked nearby. He knew he was lucky when it started right up for him. And then he got to work, holding the rifle across his lap and moving boxes down from shelves up above.

Most of the shelves were labeled by the sizes of the windows they housed. He had a mental list of all the sizes he needed. That was good, he didn't want to have to come back here. _Too Spooky!_ It took a couple of hours to locate all the windows he needed, and he made matters worse for himself by leaving pallets in the alleyways, so he had to drive around them the next time. The place was getting littered with pallets and he got frustrated enough with the forklift when its propane engine kept dying that he decided to take a break a couple of times to check on Victoria. She seemed to be keeping herself occupied, pretending to drive the van, counting items in the street, and saying her ABC's.

He went back to work and carefully stacked each selected window onto a single pallet he was using and headed back. This time he went to the bay door by the loading dock. There was a remote garage door opener clipped to the forklift above his head, but the battery had gone dead. He had to climb down and press the button by the door. Sun light came pouring in but he waited with the rifle until the door was all the way up.

He had also found a large quantity of lead tape and a stack of short pallets containing lead sheeting. The sheeting would be too much for the van to handle this time, but he took each of the pallets out and stacked them on the loading dock. It was a wonderful find. Lead was the best material for soundproofing that there was. He could come back for it later on another day. But the tape would be useful right away when he installed the windows.

He finally got all the windows and tape out to the dock and loaded them by hand down into the van. Victoria looked at him with drooping eyelids. "I'm hungry," she said.

"You're tired, too. Almost done. Don't fall asleep on me yet."

He took the forklift back to the generator and loaded the machine, still running, onto a pallet. This was the part he hated. Turning out the lights. Finally, he climbed down from the forklift and pulled the night vision goggles back down over his head. He groaned, realizing they had been running the entire time. He thought he had turned those things off! _Oh well, remind me to change the batteries when we get home._

By this time the rifle was getting heavy. He was tired of keeping it so close. But when he yanked the leads from the panel and the room suddenly went dark he decided it wasn't a bad idea to have it. The M-16 rode in the crook of his left arm which he was using to steer the forklift. His right hand curled itself loosely around the pistol grip with the index finger resting on the safety as he drove toward the glow of the bay door around the corner.

He hadn't realized how far away the panel had been from the door. This was a larger warehouse than it looked from outside.

That was when it happened. The light from his goggles suddenly began growing noticeably dim. He brought his right hand up off the gun and tapped them and they flickered once and lost power. _Nice._

There was a soft glow coming from the door but it was still a ways to the corner and his eyes weren't used to the darkness. _Stupid techno crap_. The goggles always screwed with his vision, too, so when he tore them off now he couldn't see a thing.

But he could _hear_ things.

He had unconsciously begun slowing down while his right hand fumbled for a light switch on the forklift. Now his ear muscles prickled as the sound of something scraping rapidly across the floor toward him in the darkness.

Jeremy panicked and stomped on the throttle. The forklift whined along toward the lighted corner. He knew he had left some pallets in the lane ahead but wasn't sure where exactly. There they were! He yanked hard on the wheel but the forklift turned too quickly and the generator slid off the pallet behind him as he spun out of control into the stack of windows. The sound of crushing glass filled the air as the old forklift died on him again. _Very nice!_

The scraping sound had picked up speed. Something was running at him in the dark. Jeremy slid out to the floor, fumbling with the rifle and started to squeeze the trigger, squinting into the blackness as a dull form appeared. Nothing happened! _The safety is on! _

He stepped backward and stumbled over the generator, its idling motor still running. The vampire hit him like a linebacker, knocking him to the ground. The rifle flew out of his hands and skidded across the concrete floor into the shadows.

His eyes were now fully adjusted to the dim light coming from the bay door around the corner. The two of them had fallen beyond the forklift toward where the gun had stopped. Jeremy looked up into the creature's luminescent eyes as it leaned down upon him, its rotting hands clutching at his arms and chest, and screamed into his face. He brought one hand up instinctively to the vampire's throat, slamming it as hard as he could and holding on for dear life.

The vampire leaned away, trying to loosen Jeremy's grip from its throat. He was lying on his back while the thing straddled him, tossing its head from side to side. His high school days' wrestling moves came back as naturally as breathing right then. He bridged, belly into the air under his attacker, arching his back swiftly so that the vampire began to topple backward, losing its balance. As the creature fell away Jeremy's grip on its throat was also broken, so he pivot-rolled to his chest quickly, bringing one knee up and coming up on his toes and hands all in one movement. He was just coming out of the crouch into a run when the vampire struck him again, this time knocking him down and tearing through his sleeve into his arm with its fingernails.

Jeremy didn't feel the pain. Adrenaline pumping, he rolled away from the vampire toward the rifle in the darkness. His hand struck hard against something solid. _One of the machines._ Suddenly realizing there was space for him below, he pulled himself under and slid along the floor to the other side, feeling everywhere for the rifle as he went.

The monster was screaming at him now. He looked back but could not see its feet. There was a scuffling sound above him and he realized it had leapt upon the machine he was cowering beneath. The screams were hideous and vile. No words, just emotion. Hunger. Hatred. It basically wanted his blood.

The forklift was sitting there just a few yards away. It was dead, no good to him now. The generator, however, was still running. It was even closer. Jeremy could almost reach it. That's when the idea struck him.

He slid out from under the machine, screaming as loudly as he could, hoping to confuse the monster. No time to get to his feet, he just rolled. One of the wire leads brushed his hand just as the monster landed on him again. This time nasty breath puffed directly into his nostrils in rapid snorts and he ducked away, gagging. He had never smelled breath that foul. The vampire followed him now, almost seeming to enjoy toying with him. But it was about to strike. They could never wait patiently for their supper, not for long.

The vampire rose hulking above him and howled one last time, a roar of victory and possession. Jeremy's left hand found the other cable from the generator and grasped it just as the monster sprang. He reached up and shoved the lead directly into its gaping mouth, and the other lead he punched forward into the hollow sounding chest of the once-reasonable, now-very-mad man. The jolting current caused an immediate contraction of the vampire's jaws upon the lead in its mouth and as the creature fell, Jeremy rolled to the side, shoving the other lead all the way into its flesh. The monster shook and thrashed violently, beating its head against the concrete repeatedly as 240 volts of electricity surged through its body.

The smell of burning, rotten flesh filled the air and Jeremy got to his knees, leaned over and retched on the floor next to the fork lift. He came to his feet, wobbled, and steadied himself against the stack of pallets.

Behind him the generator chugged merrily away. The monster was only quivering by this time. There was no way he was going back for the rifle. _It never worked very good on vampires anyway._

Jeremy staggered toward the light, out of the darkness, and back to Victoria. He walked up to the van and gazed down at the little girl. She was curled into a fetal position and fast asleep in the passenger seat. Her fingers had slipped away from the door locks. _Just my luck, _he thought, finally pulling up his sleeve to check the wound,_ no chauffeur for me today._


	8. Chapter 8 Fever

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of Dr. Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear. _

**Fever**

The sun, Jeremy Carter, and his Rolex had all met together. The three of them had reached a mutual consensus. It was about two o'clock in the afternoon and he felt like throwing up.

He was sitting on the perfectly even curb behind the van, head in hands. The young man's respiration had changed and was coming in short panting breaths. Sweat trickled down his cheeks and back and dripped onto the street. His long legs stuck out into the street, veering into a "V."

_V is for Victoria_. Jeremy's mind was spinning. He held his head and tried to steady the world. _Victoria._ The name still made him smile, in spite of his churning stomach.

The five year old was sleeping inside the vehicle with the doors locked and he hadn't had the heart to wake her. But he was going to have to do something pretty soon to get them both home. Out here on the street his stomach was surfing oceans of nausea. His head wasn't getting any better, either.

He pulled up the sleeve of his left arm and studied the gash through hazy eyes. He had gotten the bleeding to stop, but the vampire must have had some really interesting bacteria under its fingernails. Whatever the poison was, it was fast acting. He had been out here only a few minutes before he had to sit down from dizziness. Luckily his tetanus booster was up to date. Supposedly he was immune to the virus that had wiped out the rest of the world. But everything else could still kill him. And besides, hadn't he heard that a virus can mutate. Could it still get him, eventually?

Jeremy laid back on the sidewalk and stared up at the clouds overhead. _What a beautiful day it is._ That had always perplexed him, how the world and all that dwelt therein could have gone so ghoulish and evil overnight and yet the planet itself could just keep turning on and on as usual. Sun still came up every morning, went down every evening. Nature didn't care about all of this vampire stuff. It still rained, snowed.

Jeremy lay there, squinting at the brilliant orb. It reminded him of something from a book he had read once.

"The red sun was pasted in the sky like a wafer." He quoted the words.

Where had he read that line before? Some novel about the civil war or something. Jeremy tried to think. "Stephen," he whispered. "Stephen…Crane?." Yeah, it didn't matter anymore. A book for high school English class…_The Red Badge of Courage._

He had not been a good student, more interested in sports and girls and doing things with his hands. But that line had stood out to him back then, maybe because it was meant to stand out. It was the last line of its chapter and it sat there all by itself, isolated from the other words—superior to all rules and other things, just like the sun.

Jeremy shielded his eyes from it. He could feel its heat, the energy, as it baked against his skin. It was beginning to hurt._ That sun, that beautiful sun. Just hanging there. All-seeing, all knowing. Not caring. Shining down on the evil and the good alike. A golden seal of judgment. Just pasted there._

He knew it wasn't true. That sun was moving…a millimeter at a time, but it was still moving.

And it was headed downward.

Jeremy Carter fought to get up, but the infection had brought a fever with it. He collapsed back against the sidewalk. His mind whirled dizzily away…

* * *

The morning sun had risen on the streets in Manhattan, and survivors once again were beginning to poke their heads out of doors and carefully come from their hiding places. They met every morning to assess damage and losses, and to make plans for the day.

Jeremy came reluctantly down the stairs, sorry to have to leave Sylvia and Ben again. He lifted the bar at the front door, gazed carefully out, then stepped into the entry where the rays of the morning light were already lighting and warming the front of the building. He walked out, shouldering the M-16 he had found recently for use in patrols and protection.

Jonathon and Rex were waiting for him on the corner.

"Jay-rah-Mee!" sang the Nigerian in his rich and raspy accent, "Welcome! Welcome! It will be a beautiful day, my Bruth'a."

Jeremy clasped hands with the taller man and then nodded to Rex. "Morning, Poet. Another day and we're all three still alive. What do you know?"

Rex wasn't exactly Jeremy's favorite friend. Always had a comeback for everything. Which wasn't so bad, except that the Poet had to be so blazing-sunshine happy about it all the time. It was kind of irritating whenever Jeremy thought about it. What was there to be happy about?

Rex nodded back at Jeremy. He had a brand new answer ready, which he did every morning when Jeremy asked what he knew. It was the usual morning ritual. "This I recall to my mind," he began, in a his best dramatic quoting voice, "therefore have I hope…" The small wiry man grinned, shrugging his backpack out of the way to extend a hand to Jeremy. "…It is of the Lord's _mercies_ that we are not consumed, because his _compassions_ fail not. They are new every _morning_: Great is thy faithfulness!" He stood there, his eyes twinkling through thick glasses, with his hand sticking out, waiting.

In spite of himself, Jeremy felt the muscles in his cheeks tugging at the corners of his own mouth. The Poet did have a way of putting things. '_Not consumed.' I like that._ It was a matter of fact, wasn't it? Sure the Lord could have prevented all of…everything…and hadn't, but at least they weren't consumed, at least not yet. _Boy, Rex, that's great._ But as he studied the Poet's face he could see there was a genuine sincerity there. And it wasn't like the man had not seen his own share of trouble, either. Maybe Rex knew something that most people didn't. Maybe, after all, there was something to be happy about. It _was_ true, they were still alive. Jeremy still had his close friends around him, and his son…and Sylvia up there. Composing himself, he stepped forward and the two men slapped hands in greeting, their thumbs locking together in the style of the survivorhood.

It was odd, Jeremy thought as they turned together to walk, to find a person who was genuinely happy, even in the midst of all this "calamity." Jeremy, however, had been gifted with two of them as friends. The Nigerian was no sour-puss himself, his big smile always such a contrast against—not just his skin, but—the dark of their situation. Jeremy let the muzzle end of his rifle rotate downward to the sidewalk in front of them as they now walked together toward the meeting hall, his hand resting lightly on the shoulder sling of his weapon.

The three of them turned the corner and walked several blocks to the meeting headquarters. Downstairs, Jeremy looked around and was dismayed at the turnout. Every day was like this, fewer and fewer survivors coming in.

"We are dying out," hissed the Nigerian, echoing Jeremy's thoughts.

The meeting room was large enough for two or three hundred people. There were about sixty men and women there that morning. They all quieted down as an elderly broad-shouldered man they all knew as "Colonel Jeff" stepped to the front of the room, holding a laser pointer in his hand. The man was tall and still powerfully built, but it was clear by looking at him that he was also feeling the gravity of age and hardship. The toll of the years had not been easy. But perhaps that was why he was still able to lead. He had prepared a lifetime for the occasion.

"Let's skip formalities, shall we?" Colonel Jeff said. He always skipped formalities, it was better to be brief. He flicked on the pointer and drew a tight red oval on a section of the large wall map of Manhattan behind him. "We had planned to keep building our defensive measures up here, between Penn Station and Park Avenue, and to continue plugging all subway entrances." The old man paused and Jeremy noticed that he seemed to stoop a little more today than he had on previous mornings, his breathing also seemed more measured.

"However," Colonel Jeff continued, "as you can see by looking around you, we have been losing a lot of our heavy-equipment operators lately and are going to have to limit our activities from now on to a smaller radius."

The room groaned as Jeff drew a smaller boundary circle around their area. Once again, here was a reminder. They were losing the war. And what was more, some of the survivors lived outside that new loop. People were going to have to move again. The morning was not starting out good for morale.

"Now," said the colonel, "It was suggested and decided in our last council that we should begin cross-training one another in our respective skills. Those skilled in labor, in fighting arts and warfare, in medicine, _etcetera _ought to be sharing those things, teaching others. We never know who will go next. So…"

The old colonel held out his hand in introduction to another man who was now stepping up to the front, a tall late-thirtyish black man who looked just as rugged as anyone else in the room.

"…here is Colonel Neville to say a few words," the old colonel finished. He stepped back to let the younger man have the floor.

"Thank you, Colonel Jeff. As you all well know I have been working with my team some pretty long hours, trying to come up with a cure—and a vaccination, if possible—for the Krippin Virus. My report to you is this: So far, no such luck." He studied their faces and continued.

"You've all been blood tested. Most of you know, you are not completely immune. The bug could still get you. A very few of us find ourselves in a unique position, being currently immune to the virus. I say 'currently' because a virus, being what it is, does not stand still. It can and does change to modify its attack on the defense systems of an organism." He paused and allowed the room to digest his words. "To be frank with you, ladies and gentlemen, the infected lab rats are all dead or dying. We still have our drugs that can slow down the advance of an infection within a body. But nothing such as a cure has worked yet. And we humans are running out of time…"

Jeremy wondered if he was the only person in the room wondering what this speech had to do with cross-training each other. That idea had sounded interesting, but this was all old news. _Give the doc a chance_, he thought.

"…That is why I am requesting your help in bringing in more live human specimens for our research," the doctor continued. "And why I have asked our brother, Jonathon Ajagbe, to instruct those interested in live trapping."

Jeremy swung his head in surprise to look at Jonathon who was already stepping toward the front. Rex leaned over and whispered, "We just found out last night. Big J was up, working out his lecture for hours."

_Well_, thought Jeremy, as Jonathon got into the lecture, _they picked the right guy for the job. He knows his stuff._ Jonathon had grown up in Africa, had fought in some pretty dirty wars, most of them jungle warfare. Jeremy had already known his friend could field strip an AK-47 blindfolded and half asleep, make repairs, and then put it all back together. But now it was becoming apparent that he was just as skilled at constructing makeshift booby traps and capturing devices.

Jonathon took about an hour and taught those still in attendance his most common and simple snares—one of which, after being modified to Dr. Neville's specifications, would allow them to capture live vampires while still protecting them from the light. Jeremy was amazed at how easily Jonathon's fingers turned around the cords he was demonstrating with, tying lightning fast knots that could be released just as quickly. There was something about the way the Nigerian handled his visual aids…so smooth and practiced it made Jeremy think of tying one's shoes. Jeremy could feel his chest swell just a little. _That's my friend up there..._

* * *

He was waking up from a dream. There was a weight on his chest, uncomfortable, stiff. Jeremy's eyes fluttered as he became aware of something also on his face—a hand. Blurred at first, he looked up and saw a dark form leaning over him. He began to start up but had to gasp for breath.

Then Victoria came into focus. Even with the setting light behind her in the sky he could see she was concerned. She was stroking his face with her tiny hands. And then he remembered. He had been lying on the sidewalk for…hours? They had to get out of here.

With the child's help he managed to climb back into the security van. Somehow, they reached home. He locked the van, staggered up the steps, taking a detour to the rail to retch. When he looked back, he was relieved to see the girl taking the initiative with a bottle of vinegar. She was carrying it with both hands, sloshing it out behind them as she walked backwards up the steps.

Inside with the doors locked, the child went around closing up the windows and shutters. Jeremy eyes were heavy, his eyelids drooping again and again as he lay on the sofa watching her. _The medicine,_ he thought. He tried to call out to her, to ask her to retrieve the bag of syringes from the icebox. It was no use. His voice came out as a faint grating sound. Sandpaper.

The vision blurred again, then darkened to a slit as Victoria began to close the last window on the southwest corner of the room. He could see a fading red sun dropping beyond the skyscrapers over in Manhattan.

Then it all went dark.

* * *

Rex the Poet quotes from Lamentations 3:21 (KJV)

Jeremy quotes from Stephen Crane's _Red Badge of Courage_


	9. Chapter 9 Healing

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own._

**Healing **

Victoria sat watching the man, asleep and feverish on the sofa, wondering what had happened to have made him so sick so quickly. She had fallen asleep in the van after he told her to stay awake. When she woke up she had seen Jeremy in the mirror, lying on the ground. Now he was sick and it was her fault. Why hadn't she stayed awake? The girl's lips trembled a little, but she drew them firm. It was up to her to take care of him. Make him better.

She placed a cool wet washcloth on his forehead and wished her mama was here. Her mama would know just what to do. Victoria had seen other people get sick like this, real sudden like. Her mama had always given them a shot of something. But that was because they got in fights with bad people. Jeremy wouldn't do that, would he?

The way Jeremy was acting, though—throwing up, wild-eyed and scared—it reminded her of the others. But he didn't look like they had looked, all torn up and bloody…or white. He was just sick.

Wasn't he?

The girl stepped closer to her new friend and peered down carefully at him. His face _did_ look a little bit bruised. And he seemed to be holding his arm over his chest in a funny way. She bent down and put her hand on the arm. The skin felt very warm. Maybe he was too hot.

She reached down and took hold of the sleeve of the sweater and began pushing it up his arm. She would roll up his sleeves for him. Jeremy groaned in pain as a long, red wound appeared and Victoria stood up quickly. _Oh!_

He _had_ been fighting with the bad people! She knew it now. He needed a shot, but where could she find it for him? It was nearly dark-time. She could not go out now, not to look for a shot. Not to call for help. The bad people would find her.

Frantically, the five-year old searched her memory. Mama always kept the shots under running water in the creek. That was before they had come back to the city to look for food, before her mama went out to get some more "supplies." Mama said she would be gone for a while…but when would she ever come back? Maybe Victoria should have stayed and waited for her instead of going with Jeremy. The girl had been so tired and hungry, but how would her mama find them now?

The thought of Mama made her heart ache. She missed her. She missed everything about Mama. Her smell, her pleasant voice. Her strength and kindness. Mama could make the badness go away.

As Victoria looked back at the young man lying on the sofa, sadness and frustration welled up within her. The world suddenly seemed so hard, and there was no one to help her take care of him! The ache in her chest became a heavy feeling pressing down upon her from all directions. The small girl's knees could not support her and she sat down on the floor next to the sofa. She felt herself beginning to cry. But as the tears came, she was surprised to hear her voice also forming words in the desperation, softly at first but growing louder with each sob…

"Please, dear Jesus…Please help my Jeremy. Make him get better. And please help my mama come back soon…"

Victoria straightened a little now as she thought about the words, and her tiny hand brushed away a tear. It was like what her mama would do. Mama always prayed when things were scary. A warm feeling spread over the little girl, chasing away some of the ache. It made her feel good to think about that. She was doing what her mama would do.

Victoria looked up now, suddenly remembering. Mama had done something else, too. The memory was coming back, though it bothered Victoria to think about it. She closed her eyelids and held her breath. The secret for helping Jeremy was in the past, and the past was scary.

Her eyes opened again and she looked down at Jeremy. He seemed to be fighting for breath. She jumped up and wiped his forehead with the damp cloth. She would try to remember. For Jeremy, she would try…

* * *

They had been in a house with lots of people. Her mama—everyone had called her "Judy the Lifesaver"—was going from bed to bed. Some of the people had just come in and they were laying in bed, moaning and throwing up. Some of them had to have straps over their arms and chests. Victoria was afraid of them. They were scary with faces like they were made of candle wax.

There were others there, too. They had been in bed longer. They had to stay in another room with tents around each bed. Sometimes they would cry out and scream. The little girl shuddered now, remembering those terrible screams, but Mama had said those people were all doing better than they would have been… without the treatment she had brought from the city.

Victoria was supposed to be outside with the other children. She had wanted a drink of water. Mama would help her. The little girl now stood in the doorway, watching her mother work. The woman's back was to her. Victoria stepped into the room, whispering.

"Ma..ma…"

Mama didn't hear. She was carrying something to the new people in the beds. Victoria stepped a little closer. What was her mama giving them?

The woman picked up a small metal scoop and forced it into a tub sitting on a small cart beside her. There was the sound of the metal against something… something like gravel… but it had a softer, brighter sound when it filled the metal scoop. Victoria was not listening that carefully. She only wanted a glass of water. She took another step toward her mother.

"Ma-ma!" she called, a little more loudly than before.

Her mother turned around and saw her there. "Victoria!" she said. "You need to go outside!"

She was standing there with the scoop. And Victoria might not have noticed what was inside, but the woman turned and shoveled the gravel out onto the sick person's chest. The gravel had shined in the sunlight when it came sprinkling out.

Mama walked toward her now. "Victoria! What do you want, child? You know better than to come in here."

Victoria was led back outside and given to one of the older girls. Her mother crouched down and spoke to her one more time.

"You could get sick in there, Honey. If you need something, ask Kimberly, okay?"

Victoria's mouth felt dry as her mother turned back. Water had to be prepared just right before they could drink it out here. There wasn't any electricity where these people lived.

Suddenly, the girl understood the meaning of a certain small shack down the road that children weren't allowed to play around. The other kids had told her it had a long staircase into a deep basement and was very cold down there.

She looked up at Kimberly.

"Can I have a drink of ice water?" she said.

Just then a hideous scream pierced the air. It had come from the house, and it didn't sound human. Kimberly put her hands on Victoria's shoulders and drew her close. Both of the girls stared wide-eyed at the front of the building as another animal-like howl tore its way into their souls.

Suddenly the south-most window blew out in a shattering of glass, and a person's body flew with the fragments to the ground and landed with a dull thud. One of the patients from the tent beds appeared in the window, his eyes wild, blood smeared and dripping from his mouth. He looked right at the two girls, tossed his head back and roared insanely. Kimberly screamed.

* * *

Victoria's eyes popped open. That was enough of the memory! Her skin felt damp like she had dressed after a bath and forgotten to dry off first. She wrung her little hands and wiped her forehead. _That bad man was killed, _she reminded herself._ He died._

But, _Ice! _Her mother had been trying to keep the sick people cool by putting ice in bed with them. That was what Jeremy needed!

She got up from the floor now and ran to the kitchen, her heart still fluttering from the memory a little, but she would be okay. There were two "fridges" side by side, but the one on the left was for keeping things really cold—like ice. The freezer. She braced herself and pulled on the handle.

The door opened and the cold air came out like steam. There were a few white square packages sealed with masking tape stacked on the shelves, but above them there were clear bags of ice. She would put the ice on Jeremy now. She would do what her mama did.

As the girl began pulling the bags down to let them drop to the floor, something else occurred to her. She dropped one more bag and watched it fall before stepping down. Her hand went to the handle on the refrigerator. It would be cool in there, like the water at the creek.

The door swung open when she pulled with all her might and she stood there gazing up at the different things stored there. There were lots of small canisters, like the kind her mama used in her camera to take pictures. Not important. There were food containers with leftovers in them, but it they weren't what she was after.

And then her eyes fell upon something else. A bag, clear plastic like the ice came in, but smaller. It was sitting there on one of the shelves, and she could see what was inside…


	10. Chapter 10 Quest

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of Dr. Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter they appear in. _

**Quest**

The M-16 was an aged rifle, its wooden stock scratched and worn with use. It had been issued to some soldier back before they stopped making them with the fully auto position. Jonathon had told him so. Most survivors now had smarter, younger weapons with three-round burst options, and fit in your pocket fire-power. But people who knew their rifles, like Jonathon, had told him to "exercise trigger control" and hold on to it. It was a good find.

Jeremy and Rex waited outside on the walk for Jonathon who was still talking with Dr. Neville and some other big wigs downstairs in the meeting hall. Jeremy held the M-16 up and squinted down its sights.

"Yessir," he said, trying to sound knowledgeable, "They don't make 'em like this anymore." At twenty-one he still wasn't completely comfortable shooting it, though it was starting to come more natural. He shifted the buttstock around in the shoulder of his woolen jacket, trying to find that sweet spot.

Rex just grinned, probably thinking up some poetic reply. Jeremy knew Rex preferred his Franchi Spas 12. He had lectured Jeremy once, "You've got to leave a _big_ opening in these zombies." He always insisted that the small calibers were just not effective. "I don't care how many bullets you pepper a vampire with. If you can't see my smiling face through the holes on the other side, it isn't going to stop 'em."

The riot shotgun itself looked a little big, strapped to the small man, but he seemed to carry it with all the grace one would expect of a natural born appendage. That made sense in an ironic sort of way. For all his poetry and funny looks, the little guy did know a thing or two about warfare, from the stories that Jonathon had told.

"Hey," said Jeremy, deciding to change the subject before the Poet could launch another flowery diatribe. He lowered the rifle. "Did you see that Dr. Neville in there? Taking notes and really listening to Jonathon's lecture. Man, what's he so interested for?"

"Mmmm," said Rex, sounding preoccupied. He was standing there next to his pack which he'd allowed to slide from his shoulders to the ground. He seemed to be looking for something, glancing around them, up and down the sidewalk. "I overheard him talking with the guys that do the demolition wiring, too," said Rex. "He's one doc who's into a lot of different survivor-type things."

The whole thing struck Jeremy as odd. "Why?" he said, and made a huffing sound through his nostrils. "Aren't they booby-trapping his entire street for him over on Washington Square? He's getting better attention than Colonel Jeff. Why should he worry about learning all of this stuff, too?"

It seemed like a man should have enough to do just fulfilling his own part in the survivors' mission. Who did he think he was, anyway? Superman? Besides, it felt uncomfortable to Jeremy Carter when someone was making preparations to "get along without you."

"'Cause…" said Rex, apparently finding what he had been looking for and leaning back against a no-parking sign, "maybe _he_ figures on sticking around for a while."

There was a look of special meaning on Rex's face when he said this and Jeremy noticed it. Rex was rubbing back and forth on the parking sign now, letting it scratch his back. He had closed his eyes, smiling up at the sunshine. For once Jeremy was having a normal conversation with him and the guy wasn't quoting stuff. But what did he mean?

_Oh what the hey,_ thought Jeremy, _I'll bite._ "You mean because he's immune to both strains, right? But a lot of us are immune to both…"

Rex opened one eye and studied him without reply, but Jeremy got the message.

"Well, okay…" said Jeremy, "not a _lot _of us…you know what I mean…but there's a number of us left. What? does he expect to be here by himself someday?"

Here it came. The Poet closed his eyes and smiled into the sun as he performed his function. "Well doctors are special, Jeremy. It kinda reminds me of something someone said in a poem one time…

"_Twenty years old … thirty … forty …_

"_Forty-five and the doctors fathom nothing, the doctors quarrel, the doctors use silver tubes feeding twenty-four quarts of blood into the veins, the respects of a prize-fighter, a cab driver…_

"_The white chiselings of flesh that flung themselves in somersaults, straddles, for packed houses:_

"_A memory, a stage and footlights out, an electric sign on Broadway dark…"_

The Poet always moved his hands around when he performed. He snapped his fingers at the word "dark" and hung his head. Now he dropped his arms, was silent for a moment. When he spoke again he gazed at the sidewalk in concentration.

"There's something about a doctor, Jeremy. He's got to fix something. He's driven, compelled…But what happens when the lights go out, or everything else stops working? He can't fix humanity if there isn't any humanity left to run the lights for him. Unless he's able to fix those too. However…Not everyone wants to stick around as much as he seems to, and I guess he knows it."

The Poet stopped again and looked at him. "Jeremy, people aren't just dying off, like you might think. They are leaving the city in trickles here and there. Skipping out. They give up, find a way to vote themselves off the island and they make the choice. Pretty soon, whether the good doctor is the last man on earth or not…he's gonna be here alone, still trying to 'fix this'—him and that german shepherd puppy of his.'"

_People leaving?_ This was news to Jeremy. Wasn't it common knowledge that the rest of the world was in just as bad shape as the city. They all had heard the last broadcasts, seen the pictures on television. Well? Didn't everyone know it?

He was about to say something about his own choice—to stay where his loved ones were, when suddenly a low-flying African man came bounding up the stairway and out to the street. Jonathon landed before them, springing lightly on his toes.

Jeremy had to smile. _Jonathon could have been a ball-player in another life, _he thought. Always, the black man's abilities amazed him.

"My friends and my partners in crime," chuckled the Nigerian in that noisy, raspy voice of his. His voice always left the impression that a miniature cheering audience accompanied everything he said.

He reached out to them both, taking Jeremy by the shoulder and then Rex as well. The Poet reached down hastily and grabbed up his pack. It was time to go.

They were drawn in to the black man's wake, a vibrant, auditory vision of exultation. He began walking them toward the corner, chuckling all the way. "Have I got a job for a couple of soldier bru'thas like you!"

They turned at the corner, and there sat the security van Jonathon had been working on only a couple of weeks ago before it had mysteriously disappeared. Jonathon had employed Jeremy's time and machinist skills to rework some of its ride features, the two of them working side by side to carry out his plans for it. Those plans, as Jeremy discovered to his own chagrin at the time, had been 'top secret.' He had never gotten an explanation for the final purpose of their endeavor.

Now the black van was suddenly back in front of them again, with extra armor, razor wire, and…

The Nigerian swung the side cargo door open. "Voila!" he cackled.

…they could see the interior, loaded with various automatic rifles and wooden crates of unknown contents.

"What's this about?" said Jeremy, holding the side of the van and poking his head in. In addition to the boxes and weapons, he noted a gas-powered air compressor and some empty metal reels attached to the interior walls. The reels had manual hand-cranks and could be used to wind cable or rubber hoses or just about anything. But the most obvious things back there were a couple of long cages made of heavy iron. There were two of them, stacked to one side and laying horizontal, each about the right size to house a single person. Or a single vampire. A heavy, dark canvas cloth draped over them, partially covering the upper one.

"Welcome to the Vamp-wagon, my Bru'thas." The Nigerian opened the driver's side door and gave a showy gesture of invitation, waving his arm.

Rex set the stock of his Franchi on the ground and leaned the gun against the van. "Ahh," he said, climbing up into the cockpit, "_All the creature's comforts of home, so creatures-driven may live on the roam._ So...this was what you two were doing all this time."

Jeremy was just about to reply that he was as surprised as Rex, but Jonathon jumped into the passenger side and began rasping away at how they had made _this_ little modification here and done _that_ to it there, and now it was finally ready for _employment, my Bru'thas._

They loaded their gear and Rex's shotgun into the van and took off. First stop would be some place on the northwest corner of the island. Jeremy winced as the van rolled out from the curb into the street. That area was supposedly the last hold-out turf of a so-called _other faction_. The "Pillagers," as they called themselves, were actually the final shreds of several street gangs, including the vicious Westies and other convict-types who had banded together after the outbreak and subsequent quarantine.

The Pillagers had made trouble all over the city, looting and killing indiscriminately, and forcing other survivors to deal with them head on. Though most of them were said to have now fallen to the plague, there were still a few stragglers that were known to pop up from time to time. Jeremy had seen his share of that fight and was tired of it.

Rex, on the other hand was like a happy puppy going for a ride, oblivious to concern. He even put his head out the window now to feel the breeze as he drove. Jeremy thought about this. Rex seemed to look forward to conflict, possibly because he could recite all the poetry he wanted, and that to a captive audience. Jeremy had seen him in a fight plenty of times. The man only got jollier. There was no sun that ever set on Rex.

The Nigerian was riding in the passenger seat up front while Jeremy sat in the back on a crate. Jeremy could see the back of the man's head and shoulders, tall in the saddle. He was looking briskly up and down every cross street they passed, studying every parked car, every building. He appeared to be nibbling on his fingernails.

_Why,_ wondered Jeremy, _is everyone so excited about what we are about to do, and all I want is to go home to my family and hold my son?_

They drove on in silence for a while, except for when the Nigerian would call out directions and the van would turn down another street to get around some obstacle. They seemed to be headed toward the George Washington bridge, one of the few that had not been destroyed the night of the quarantine. Jeremy wondered if they would leave the island and go over into New Jersey, and Rex's words about people leaving town echoed in his mind, but instead they continued on and headed further north.

The black van pulled to a stop at a bombed out hospital and the Nigerian began telling them what they would be doing. He wanted to get some sleep agents to use with the tranquilizer guns he had acquired. He opened one of the wooden crates and showed them the pneumatic rifles. Rex whistled. The presence of the air compressor made sense now. It would be used to charge the tanks of the dart guns.

They got out and strapped on duffel bags and rifles, then headed up into the hospital, stepping over broken glass as they went. Apparently, the gangs in this area had already long since hit the place, no doubt in search of medical supplies and opiates themselves. Jeremy wondered if they would find anything of use, but the African led the way with an air of confidence that boasted privileged information.

Inside, they stuck close to the lighted windows until they reached a stairway where they attached flashlights to the sides of their rifle barrels and began the ascent. It was nerve wracking as usual, going into a darkened building like this. Jeremy hated it, but was glad for the feeling of security that his two companions provided. Rex followed behind, walking backwards and covering their rear with the sweeping shot gun.

Jeremy's mind was attuned to every little creaking board under foot and the sight of shadows in darkened areas in the hallway they now entered.

_We mean no harm, Mr. Monster. Just gonna take what we need of yours and go on our way. Just gonna leave you drugless and miserable, maybe shoot some of your kind and take 'em with us later to do experiments on. We mean you no harm, at all. _

But his heart was back at home with his loved ones. Somehow, even the humor that came to him under duress couldn't stop the thoughts of Sylvia and Ben. They kept coming to his mind more than usual today and he longed to return to them.

Finally they reached a door marked "Janitor" and filed into the room. Rays of sunlight shown in through the windows there and Jeremy could make out beads of sweat trickling down the Nigerian's face. He turned to them and pointed to some cabinets against the wall. "Look in those. Don't make too much noise opening them. We're looking for something called… 'Thorazine' or it might be labeled 'Chlor…promazine.' Don't ask me how to spell it. It doesn't sound English, even if I was American."

Rex broke the lock on the cabinet with a small flat crow bar and they dug through boxes of medicines until they found a couple marked Thorazine.

"Make sure it's the liquid form," said Jonathon.

They did. It was.

That was all they needed. It had been so easy. _Maybe too easy,_ thought Jeremy as they made their way back down the hall and stairs…

* * *

Rex the Poet quotes from Carl Sandburg's "An Electric Sign Goes Dark," as well as original rhymes.


	11. Chapter 11 Raid

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of Dr. Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter they appear in. _

**Raid **

Out on the street in the daylight again, they stood squinting, waiting for their eyes to readjust to the light. Jonathon explained they would be mixing the Thorazine with another compound that Dr. Neville had given him, according to instructions. It would supposedly knock the kick-and-thrash out of a vampire and allow them to get their prize into custody without its hurting itself—or them—too badly in the process. Neville didn't want the vampires too drugged up to begin working on them immediately so he had sent explicit instructions.

"How'd we know where to find this stuff?" asked Jeremy, still amazed at how easy it had been.

"A tip from some guy who used to work here," said Jonathon, "Seems he thought he should try to hide some random medicine when the panic started. He didn't know what he should take, but it just so happened that he remembered the name on the box. Neville got word, and you know the rest."

They were standing there in the open, feeling relieved that the darkened halls of the hospital were behind them when the attack came.

* * *

None of them had their rifles at the ready. Jeremy and Rex each carried the extra burden of the Thorazine in their duffels. And suddenly there was the rushing of feet and bodies, and five men—armed with AK-47's—were standing around them, cursing wildly and sneering into their faces. 

Jeremy let the duffel and the rifle swing as he slowly raised his hands. These guys didn't look well at all. Their faces and skin had a strange pallor with slimy looking features. Yet they were out here in the sunlight, shouting at them. No vampire ever carried a rifle, either. Whatever their condition was, they weren't vampires, at least not yet.

The cursing died down as the apparent leader of the group stepped up to Jonathon and jabbed the muzzle end of the AK-47 into his ribs. "What's that you're fleecing in them bags, Padjo?"

The three were disarmed and made to set their duffels on the sidewalk. Jeremy was wondering if they would ever get home. He looked at Jonathon for any cues and noted that he did not seem too worried yet.

Then he stared at Rex. Now there was a sight to behold. The small Poet stood there, grinning at the glaring gunmen. He could not be taken too seriously as a threat. He stretched and twisted and flexed his unimpressive muscles and grinned, eyes closed, up into the sunlight. The gunmen glared and looked to their leader.

"We'll get 'em boxed off to the cell," he hissed. "Looks like that raid the others were doing this morning wasn't necessary a tall."

"Perfect bait for our sacrifices, eh, Lynchie?" said another. The gunmen all shared an evil sounding laugh together. It made the hair on Jeremy's neck stand on end.

"Yeah, after that bogger molly escaped this morning!" said the leader, showing anger again. "I can't believe they let her get away, when we finally had her!" He looked at the three new captives and muttered something about them coming along just in time to take her place.

They were shoved ahead of the men with the guns and led across the street toward an alley. Jeremy could see several long, dark cars parked back inside. _It must be the Pillagers' hideout. _The vehicles resembled Viking ships with dazzling steel blades spiking the corners of the hoods and tops. Round scale-like shields were welded to the bodies in an obvious attempt at display of strength. Several guards were posted around the cars. The guards began walking toward the new arrivals to meet them.

As the two groups converged at the mouth of the alley, a small commotion suddenly erupted behind Jeremy, and he heard one of the gunmen begin cursing. Everyone turned to see what the matter was.

Rex had stopped to tie his shoe. A gunman following behind him was raising the butt of his rifle. "Oh! You're a cute hoor!" he said and took a couple of steps forward to crack a head. Suddenly the small Poet leaned to the left and, bracing himself on that hand, he spun low, his right leg sweeping out and catching the side of the gunman's knee. Jeremy heard the cracking sound of a joint, and with a pitiful yelp the man's chest hammered down against the sidewalk. The rifle he had raised, came down and bounced out of his grip.

The Nigerian whirled into action now, too, as Jeremy looked on with dropped jaw. The lead gunman, Lynchie, took a knuckled fist to the side of his temple, losing first his wits and then his rifle as it was yanked from his grasp. He began to fall. The rifle's butt then came up and hammered into a third man's shoulder, knocking him off balance. That man came sprawling toward Jeremy, flailing his AK-47.

Jeremy did what came natural. Dropping his center of gravity, he charged to meet the man's gut with his shoulder. Then rising, he came up like a piston under the toppling man and watched in awe as the guy flipped in mid-air and came down upon his back on the concrete. There was a satisfying exhalation as he landed and Jeremy knew the man's breath was gone. He pounced on him before he could recover and ripped the AK-47 from his fingers.

Turning back to see what was happening behind him, he saw Jonathon had dispatched another and was shoving the final gunman backward toward Rex, who gladly did a neat leaping spin to get his body around the unbalanced, staggering man. As he completed the spin his arm came up and trapped the man's throat in the crook of his elbow, multiplying the man's backward momentum. And as the Poet now squatted, leading the head forcefully to the sidewalk, the man's feet were wrenched into the air and his entire body followed up and over. He landed face down with a crash that put Jeremy's handiwork to shame.

As this was going on, Jonathon had rushed to the side. He now trained the stolen rifle on the remaining guards who had just begun to pull their own weapons from side-holsters and from under their jackets. Jonathon shouted directly into their faces to drop both their ideas of heroics and their pistols as well.

He was like a raging elephant, trumpeting commands and backing them with the threat of his apparent insanity. Their faces turned a shade even whiter and they quickly complied, tossing in their Uzi's and automatics to the growing pile in the street before them. One of the guards muttered, "Boys, I'm afraid I just passed a motion into me cacks."

Jeremy looked back at the Poet. He seemed ecstatic. _Here comes a tirade for you, suckers,_ Jeremy thought.

The little man threw down his rifle into the pile and slapped his knee. Then he straightened with an air of comical dignity and snorted out his war song to the prisoners.

_Oh how the tables have shifted, have turned! __O' ruthless twelve, our enemy!_

_We fear not your un-naked fists, __Or shrink with unsteady wrists __For, we too may unsheath deadly swords, __Oh, against you—countless, mighty hordes, _

_And cry, 'to the death!' __Measure out now your final breath __And show us what we should fear...__If you would even yet, dare draw near_

_Here I plunge my daggered hand, __Into the heart of an evil man! __He comes as if to strike a blow __But crumples beneath me, my wretched foe_

_Up! get up, and try again! __Your brothers are hasty to begin! __One comes swinging but I duck, A__nd he goes flinging his body a-muck_

_Another sees his opening, A__nd means to do me in...__But my rhythm is confusing __to him_

_Sidestep. Parry. Thrust and Jab. __A little Hapkido to throw the flab, A__nd land them all in a heap, __Then do it all again, twelve men deep_

It was an exceptional recital, with the Poet making energetic demonstrations in the air with his fists and dancing around as he spoke. The gunmen all looked on, dismayed, and Jeremy would have applauded at the end, but just then there were shouts from windows above and the three looked up to see fingers pointing down at them. Reinforcements came pouring out of a doorway in the alley. Time to be going.

They fell back, bringing up the AK-47's as they went, combing the air behind them with lead. The three rushed back to the place where they'd laid their own weapons. The duffels were still lying there with the drugs in them and they hurriedly raked everything into the van and peeled away.

Behind them the Pillagers' viking-limos slid out in pursuit, firing their weapons as they came. The van's occupants could hear bullets smacking madly against the rear armored panels.

Jonathon climbed into the back with Jeremy and pulled a heavy crate to himself. He wrenched the top off with his fingernails, reached in and drew out what looked like a lightweight military bazooka. Jeremy stared bug-eyed as the black man next located an oblong, stream-lined looking…"shell" and began attaching it to the end of the bazooka.

"Rocket-launcher!" sang the Nigerian, laughing at Jeremy's expression. "Throw open that chopper door!"

Jeremy released the handle and the door slid back, banging against the stops. Rex swerved around a parked police car that jutted into the street, and nearly threw the Nigerian from the van. Jonathon steadied himself, and moved in a crouch to the door.

"Here's one for the survivorhood!" said Jonathon, rising and taking aim. There was a whoosh, a blast of smoke and vapor, and Rex nearly tossed Jonathon out again. The van swerved several times and regained control, its driver coughing and laughing. Rex rolled up his window.

Jonathon was shouting back at the pursuers in a foreign language and shaking his fist. Jeremy caught hold of him and jerked him back inside. He then grasped the handle above the doorway and hung on tightly as he peered out. One of the cars had flipped in front of the others and now was skidding to a stop on its roof. Black smoke and flames poured from the up-turned engine. The other cars swerved to miss it, but came to a stop. They had seen enough for one day.

The three drug-runners drove aimlessly for blocks, laughing uncontrollably and each retelling the morning's events from his own heightened sense of perspective on them. Jeremy heralded Rex's surprise leg sweep, and Jonathon described with delight Jeremy's piston move, pantomiming it with his hands in slow motion. They all laughed as Rex recounted the looks on the gunmen's faces when he lectured them with his flaming poetry.

Finally they drove on quietly, the snickers dying away and reviving here and there until the giddiness was, at last, played out. After a while, Rex rolled his window back down and draped an elbow thoughtfully out. He said, "What do you suppose they meant by a 'raid'?

* * *

Several blocks away, a lone woman made her way carefully over cracked streets in search of a clothing shop. Her torn and soiled garments would be discarded for the best she could find. There was not time for selectivity today. She knew the men's plans. 

Shuddering from the ordeal she had just been through, as well as the chill in the air, she thought about those evil men behind her now. They would have new captives tonight, and when they returned she would be in place to rescue the innocents if she could. Her baby was safe with friends for the time being. They could wait for her return one more day and then she might even have more people with her to join their effort.

* * *

Rex the Poet quotes original poetry in this chapter. 


	12. Chapter 12 Trap!

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of the mention of Dr. Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear. _

_"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival." - C.S. Lewis_

**Trap!**

Victoria had fallen asleep on the floor next to the sofa where Jeremy was still lying. The little girl awoke to the sound of a digital beeping somewhere nearby. She rubbed her eyes. The beeping continued a few more seconds and stopped.

Victoria sat up and looked around, and her eyes fell upon the Rolex on Jeremy's wrist. She knelt beside him and held his wrist up to look at the shiny gold watch. It had a face with a big hand and a little hand, but there was also a small rectangle with yellow numbers that constantly changed and shone in the dark. She wished she could tell time. As it was, the sealed house allowed no outside light to enter, and she wondered if it was morning yet. She had been wondering that all night.

Whether the sun was up outside, she did not know, but the night was not over for Jeremy. He still thrashed in his restless sleep and occasionally called out things Victoria could not understand. The little girl had been trying to keep him cool with ice throughout the night by trading out the melted bags with fresh cold bags from the freezer, and she had found some shots in the fridge that looked just like the ones Mama used on patients. But when she had tried to give him one, she just could not. It made her cry to even think of hurting Jeremy. Now it seemed like he was getting worse. She held the back of her hand to his cheeks and forehead—_ooh, still hot_—and she looked at the watch again. _He needs a shot, Mama. Mama._

No, that wasn't quite right. Going through the motions of imitating her mother kept bringing things to her memory. Mama always held a patient by the _wrist_ and _then_ looked at a watch. Victoria would try that. She took his arm in her hands again and squeezed his wrist. As she looked at the watch she suddenly noticed the thumping of his pulse. It seemed very fast. She dropped his hand back to his side and then felt her own wrist. Once Mama had let her feel her own pulse, but it had not been that fast. Not as fast or as strong as Jeremy's was now. What did it mean? Desperately, she tried to find her own pulse on her wrist but could not.

_Mama,_ she cried inside, _Mama please come soon! _

* * *

The signal of the van's CB radio was not strong enough to be dependable over long distances in the city, but they finally managed to make contact with the base station. The signal was distorted because of all the buildings around them, and the Nigerian had to repeat himself several times, but in the end the message was delivered: "Be on the alert for an attack by the _Pilla-jahs_."

Jeremy still did not like the idea of a Pillager raiding party. It was probable their plans were to attack somewhere back at the survivor base, which left the possibility of his son and Sylvia being in danger. He was all for heading back right away to look after them, but the Nigerian was against it.

And the tall, black man could be persuasive. The others back home, he reminded them, were well equipped and had prior warning to be on their guard against a surprise. That meant, in his eyes, the three of them could afford the time needed to acquire one or two vampires before they returned.

"Let's get it done, then," said Jeremy finally throwing up his hands. He would never win an argument with Jonathon, whose will was like iron. The only thing was to cooperate so they could get home sooner. They all needed each other.

Rex had not entered the argument, wisely keeping his silence. He was different from most people, in that, even before the plague had come, he had not had a family to worry about. Now he looked up at the Nigerian expectantly.

"Alright, my bru'thas," said the Nigerian, his face looking serious and glancing from Jeremy to Rex. "We'll work togethah and bring home a bounty."

_Terrific,_ thought Jeremy, _let's go_.

They headed southeast with the van, cutting through alleys at times and driving around whole blocks where vehicles had not yet been cleared from the streets. Sometimes they had to drive on the sidewalks to get through an area. Jeremy shook his head as they passed. At the rate people were dying, the streets would probably never be completely cleared. He sat back and waited while Jonathon issued directions to Rex one turn at a time, toward a destination only the African was sure of.

As they drove, Jonathon told them his plan. He wanted to put several snares into place in known hot-spots where he figured their chances were best to catch monsters during daylight hours. He had two specific places in mind for making "sets," as he called them.

The position of the sun when they arrived at their first location agreed with their watches. It was about three o'clock in the afternoon. According to the almanac in Rex's backpack, sunset tonight would be at 7:44, but they were far enough away from home that they would need to start back at least two hours before that, and even then they would be cutting it close. The three men got out of the van and synchronized their watches at Jonathon's suggestion. They then mixed the Thorazine and got the tranquilizer guns ready, running the air compressor long enough to charge two of the guns' screw-on tanks.

Rex stood guard, the Franchi Spas 12 looking as ominous as ever slung to the small-framed poet, and Jeremy helped the Nigerian with the supplies and tools he needed. They carried a crate between the two of them to the rear exit of a trashy looking building. There were signs of vampire presence everywhere back there. Old animal carcasses and bones lay strewn about in the tall weeds. Dried splatterings of blood had stained the brick walls in the alley a darkish brown. There were even a few human remains lying back against the remnants of a torn chain link fence_. Hopefully nobody I knew, _thought Jeremy gravely. He unconsciously wrinkled his nose at the sickly-sweet smell.

"You don't suppose something died back in there, do you?" Rex called from the mouth of the alley.

"Get in here where you can cover us with that thing!" shouted the Nigerian.

They set the crate down and this time Jonathon used a flat crowbar instead of his fingernails to remove the top. He pulled four spools of nylon cord from the wooden box and set them aside. Next he brought out what looked like a plastic gun. It was red and black and had a metal barrel-looking end on it. Jeremy recognized it as a nail gun and he picked it up and looked it over as soon as the Nigerian had set it down. Someone had attached a smart leather shoulder sling to it.

Jeremy laid the nail gun down and picked up a loose .22 caliber power load that went with it. The brass power load looked like a .22 casing with the bullet missing and the end crimped off. Normally they came in a plastic strip, about twenty or so to a unit, and each load could drive a single nail through solid concrete or even steel. He dropped the casing back into the crate and watched as his friend finished checking inventory. Finally, there was an assortment of pulleys, carabiners and other fittings which Jonathon took from the crate and shoved into his pockets.

The Nigerian loaded the nail gun with a clip of heavy duty concrete nails and then a whole strip of .22 caliber power loads. They took a battery powered floodlight and shined it through the doorway and around inside the room for a minute before deciding it was safe to enter. Jeremy had his M-16 at the ready. He stood, back against the wall and held the rifle and the light for Jonathon while the older man looked around the room, deciding on the best situation for the set. Satisfied, Jonathon leaned down, putting the nail gun's muzzle to the ground and squeezed the trigger.

The .22 load cracked sharply, reverberating around in the big room and jarring Jeremy's nerves. He suddenly realized how tense he had become after entering the room, when his head and neck jerked in whip like fashion. _Ouch._ Then, he thought he heard a brief clambering of feet above them in the second story. And, almost as suddenly, it occurred to him that he was also no longer shining the light where his friend needed it. He regretfully brought it back around to the task. _Let's just get this done and get out of here._

When Jonathon pulled the gun away there was a single nail, shot straight down into the concrete floor, sticking up an inch. The African stood up and twisted the barrel of the nail gun, making an adjustment. When he leaned back down, a pair of lineman's wire-cutters were in his hand. He reached out and snipped the head off the nail so that only about three-quarters of an inch of the shaft was left standing.

Jeremy thought about that shaft of nail. Sure it looked dangerous, _maybe if you happened to fall on it, with…perhaps your head,_ but how was it going to catch a live vampire? His hands were full with the light and the M-16 or he would have scratched his head over that one. As it was he just watched.

Jonathon pulled a small steel cable with a ring at each end from his pocket and dropped one of the rings over the nail. He let the other end of the cable lay on the ground. _It just gets more perplexing._ They turned and came back outside where Rex was holding the door for them, grinning. The little man just shook his head at Jonathon, at the wonder of it all.

It was now time to get some real work done. Jonathon shot another nail into the top of the doorway and made a quick tie around it with a piece of nylon cord he had cut from one of the spools. The tie, he explained, would break away once the tension against it swung out of the doorway. He attached a small pulley to the tie. Then, putting his neck and an arm through the sling of the nail gun, the black man laid his hands upon the bricks of a nearby pillar that ran up the side of the building and climbed dexterously up to the next story. There were few windows on this at that level, so he was safe to venture out.

He pulled himself up and walked along the concrete ledge until he was just above the doorway. With the nail gun, he shot another nail into the face of the ledge beneath him. Suddenly he stood and nodded down to them. He grinned as he reached back and pressed a large palm against the brick wall behind him, indicating he had just felt something inside.

"We've got some live ones awake in here, my bru'thas!" he remarked. "And I think they don't like us out here one bit."

He hurried now, attaching a pulley to the nail he'd just sunk. This time Jeremy noticed that he used a fitting from his pocket instead of the cord. No break-away desired up there.

Jonathon clapped his hands twice and held them open in a catching position. "The cord," he called down to them.

Jeremy lobbed one of the spools up to him and watched as the black man fed the end of the cord through the pulley. Jonathon tied a loop at the end of the cord and dropped the spool back to Jeremy. He then attached the nail gun to the loop and let it hang suspended just beneath the pulleys while he climbed back down and jumped to the ground again. Taking the spool from Jeremy's hands, Jonathon let it fall to the ground, and the spool rushed to unwind itself, dancing around in the alley as the nail gun slid down the wall into the Nigerian's waiting palm. He tossed the gun back into the crate.

The cord end was then fed through the pulley at the top of the doorway and Jonathon called for the steel net and tarp. Jeremy got them out and carried the bundle to him. The black man shook the tarp out flat like a picnic blanket on the ground and then did the same with the net over the top of it.

"Watch now," he instructed, "I left this part undone so you could see the entire process. Next tomorrow, you will have the net ready before we ever get to our site."

'_Next tomorrow,'_ thought Jeremy, it was the idiom the Nigerian always used to mean 'the day after tomorrow.' That meant he might get a break from this tomorrow. _Sylvia. Ben._

Rex and Jeremy had watched some of this tarp and net process at least once already that morning at the workshop, but they both leaned in anyway, in spite of themselves. It was fascinating to see how smooth their friend could make it look. The Nigerian took another spool of cord from the pile near the crate and showed Jeremy and Rex how to thread the net and the tarp so that it would catch a vampire and hide him or her from the deadly light of the outdoors. He then held the tarped-net by two of its corners and nodded to Jeremy who entered the room again with the floodlight and machine gun.

The Nigerian followed him into the room carrying the bundle. He shook the tarp out again, letting it spread out on the floor, flat, near the nail. Now he took the tail of the steel cable with the ring on it and let it stream out over the net.

"This is for the trip wire," he said. "We clip our bait here when we get ready."

The two of them went outside again, and Jonathon showed them how to rig a counterbalance using a vehicle in a nearby parking garage. They pushed the jalopy out to the edge and let it teeter there from the first story. The first spool of cord was then measured out and set aside so that they could cut it to size later and attach the end loosely to the rear of the car.

Jonathon then tied the end of a third spool to the car's bumper and held the spool so that the cord spun off as he and Jeremy brought it back to the nail in the building, taking up as much slack out of it as he could. This, he explained to Jeremy as he snapped it down over the nail so that it was just above the cable with the ring, was their tension wire. "They grab the blood. They don't let go. That sets everything into motion." The black man made a jerking motion in the air with his fist to demonstrate.

Suddenly it all made sense to Jeremy. He could finally see how all the parts came together, visualizing what would happen when a vampire tugged on that cable. _Chiiinnng. Swiiiish. 'Crash,' goes the car. And voila! Vampire swinging in bag._ As a machinist, he could appreciate the calculative, cool simplicity of the snare.

The Nigerian looked back up to Rex whom they had left waiting next to the perilous jalopy in the parking garage, and nodded. Rex waved down to them, walked over and politely gave the car a gingerly shove toward calamity. Then stood back.

The old automobile teetered again and began to fall over the edge. Jeremy and Jonathon stood clear and held their breath. The nylon cord suddenly stretched and drew taut on the nail but held fast, and the jalopy's fall was abruptly halted. It hung partially from the edge of the parking garage, only its rear wheels still on the level. The squeaky sound of metal rubbing against concrete split the quiet afternoon air while Rex finished by fastening the first cord also to the rear bumper. He left only as much slack in it as Jonathon had prescribed.

When he came back down to them. Jonathon handed them a small, ventilated, iron box attached to a steel cable like the one inside. The box had a roll of gauze in it and there was a carabiner on the end of the cable for attaching it to the ring. They both looked dumbly at the Nigerian and he reached into his pocket once more and withdrew an empty syringe.

"Who would like to do the honors?" he asked, as though expecting them to fight over a chance to draw their own blood.

* * *

Victoria just had to know. Was it morning yet? Jeremy had finally stopped thrashing as much, and she had given up on trying to find her own pulse. So the girl got up from the floor and tiptoed to the door.

There was a small steel panel built into the door that could be slid open to look out safely on the street. She reached up and pushed a small lever on the locking mechanism to release it, then carefully slid the panel open an inch. She was just tall enough to peek out.

The air outside the house was quiet, except for the cheerful tweets of a few birds in nearby trees. Victoria cautiously slid the panel open a little more and stood on her toes to peer out. The gathering light of dawn was slowly sifting its way into the street.

First signs of morning were always welcome, but this morning was even more special than usual in contrast to the night that it was following. Victoria felt the rising warmth of the sun filling her with relief. It made her glad. She stood there, unable to move, breathlessly watching the dawn as it filtered in—beautiful.

The light began streaming through tree branches overhead and more birds joined into celebration. The wild animals were happy, too. Morning was here again. Victoria watched a squirrel venture out of its tree and scamper across the street where it stopped midway, stood silent for a couple of seconds, listening, then scampered on.

_If the animals are coming out, I can too_, thought Victoria. It wouldn't hurt to open the door and step out onto the porch. The dawn was here_. Bad people are afraid of the light and they hide._ She wanted to go outside and play in the grass. Maybe she was big enough to climb a tree now. It had been a long time since she had tried to climb a tree.

She looked mournfully back at Jeremy, lying on the sofa. It was hard work taking care of a sick person. Besides, the morning was melting the fear and distress away from her heart. He would get better today. She would leave him just for a minute and watch the sunrise.

She put her hand on the lever of the deadbolt system and began to pull…


	13. Chapter 13 Lifesaver

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of Dr. Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

_"If we could know which of us, darling, would be the first to go, who would be first to breast the swelling tide and step alone upon the other side - if we could know!" - C.S. Lewis_

**Lifesaver**

The locks slid back with a satisfying _ch-lunk_. Victoria carefully pulled the door open a crack and peered out. It looked safe. The street was quiet. She stepped outside into the open, listening.

Nothing.

Even the birds seemed to have drawn in their breath. The whole world listened and watched and waited.

The tiny blonde-haired girl took another step out onto the porch. She looked in every direction and listened. The morning light had not fully yet come, though it was building. She paused. Had she just heard something? Victoria squinted down the street and saw a movement there, between the cars. A form, a figure. A person stood in the distance looking her way. Instinctively, she crouched low against the railing and slowly raised her nose and eyes over the rail to peer back toward the place.

There was a person out there! Walking her way now! Victoria took one more look at the flowing leather trench coat, the booted feet kicking out and trampling weeds in the street, and she turned and fled into the house, slamming the door and whimpering as she tried to remember how to work the locks all in reverse.

"Victoria!"

It was Jeremy calling out to her in his delirium. She ran to his side, but his widened eyes did not focus on her. Heat radiated from him. She knelt next to him and held his head under her arm.

"Please wake up, Jeremy!" she cried. "Mama, Mama."

There was the scuffing sound of boots on the sidewalk outside. She could hear them clicking up the steps, now. Panic filled her. The person must have seen her while she had stood out there on the porch. Why, oh, why had she gone outside? Suddenly a light knocking sounded from the oaken door. Victoria could picture in her mind the black-leather gloved hand, the knuckles, rapping on the wood. She closed her eyes. Perhaps they would go away.

The knocking continued and suddenly something clicked in Victoria's mind. It was the way the knock pronounced itself. Familiar, somehow. Victoria finally rose from her place and tiptoed carefully toward the door. She would try to be brave and ask who it was.

What happened next was so quick and surprising that Victoria nearly fainted. It was in the very moment when she had reached the door that her eyes fell upon the small steel panel, and she stopped and stared. The panel—she had closed it, but in her haste, forgotten to latch it.

Suddenly the panel slid back and two gloved fingers dropped back to reveal a nose and pair of eyes looking through. Looking through, right back at her.

"Sylvia!" Jeremy cried from the other room, but he was delirious...

* * *

Jeremy was thinking about his girl while he waited with Rex and Jonathon for a vampire to take their bait. Rex had volunteered to donate blood "this time," but it had come at a price. They had to endure listening to him spout poetry while they _"drew deeply of his origins, the crimson reservoir of halfling ancestry, purest red liquid to a life he could offer, for to save a lost humanity from the curse of blood-lust, pain, the plague and death" _or something like that.

Jeremy closed his eyes and leaned back against the van as they waited. The sun was against his eyelids now, getting lower all the time. It made him think about how late it was getting to be. And so far the vampires were being surprisingly self-contained. _Maybe they don't like Rex's blood, _he thought_. Or maybe they overheard him reciting poetry and they all just curled up in there and died from horror._

The Nigerian was thinking about time, too. "I fear we have angered the hunting demons," he said, looking at his watch. "If we don't move on, we won't have our second set made in time. The thought of night falling and not being under shelter was a terror no one wanted to deal with.

They all shook their heads and agreed it was best. Jeremy and the Nigerian climbed back into the van. They would leave Rex behind to tend the set for now, hope for success, and send Jeremy back to help him after setting the next trap a couple of blocks away. The van pulled out and rolled down the aging street, once more skirting around obstacles as it went.

Soon, they were doing it all again. The crate, the nail gun, the cord. This time Jeremy stitched the tarp and net together and the Nigerian managed to find another counterweight, this time in the form of a toppled hotdog and pretzel stand. They righted it and pulled it to the edge of an overpass. When they were ready, the pretzel stand went into suspended animation same as the jalopy had, and everything held. The trap was set.

The Nigerian looked at him and then at his watch. He reached into the van, loaded up a tranquilizer gun, then laid it on the hood of a parked car. He opened the rear of the van and got a hold on the upper iron cage, pulling it from side to side so that it tipped and slid off from the bottom cage and out to the ground.

"Should have put wheels on it," he said, heaving up one end. Jeremy helped him pull it aside and hide it near another car. Next, Jonathon gave him directions. "Take the van back to the first set and help Rex. I'll wait here. Come back for me in…" He looked at his watch again. "…thirty minutes, if you get a catch or not. By then we must go."

The Nigerian took an AK-47 from the van and the rocket launcher. And he put a citizens band walkie-talkie on his belt, told Jeremy to keep the CB in the van on the survivor channel, and finally to be careful and use the tranquilizers.

Jeremy drove the van, listening to the crackling of the radio, the white noise soothing to his nerves. The survivors had arranged a system of encryption codes which they changed every week or so. This had been the practice ever since the beginning when the skirmishes had started with the Pillagers and others like them. Every radio was programmable and kept up-to-date with the latest codes at all times. They couldn't afford to give away intelligence—not with the possibility of rivals still out there, though it was true security had gotten somewhat more lax in recent days. Jeremy shook his head as he again worried about Sylvia and Ben. Until today, no one had heard anything from the Pillagers for months.

He drove on and was just beginning to fall in love with the way the van handled and the feeling of power under its hood. The split windshield was a also a trip, with its bullet proof glass and extra bracing down the center. He groaned inwardly when the ride ended. Two city blocks was too short. And Rex was waiting for him and ready to talk when he arrived. _It might be a long thirty minutes._

"Hungry?" asked Rex as Jeremy got out of the van. Without waiting for an answer, the poet tossed him a deli sub sandwich from a small ice chest he had taken from his backpack.

"Hey, thank you," said Jeremy, catching it. "Yeah, actually, I'm starving." He unwrapped the sandwich from its plastic covering and smelled the contents_. All right. Turkey breast and Swiss on rye, with spicy brown mustard, tomatoes, olives, and dill pickles._ And it was fresh. Where had the poet gotten fresh turkey breast?

Jeremy bit into the sandwich, marveling at how good it felt to eat something normal for a change. It was food the way he remembered it before the plague. Hey, Rex wasn't so bad after all.

"I used to work in a combo deli-bakery," said Rex. "Learned to make these pretty well. You strike me as a meatloaf kind of guy, but when I found that frozen turkey the other day, everything else went on the back burner. For a while at least. You know what they say about turkey. 'Put it in here..." he pointed to his mouth "...'til it comes out your ear.'"

"Hey this is pretty good. I forgot, you said you'd found a place with a generator still running in it, didn't you?" Jeremy talked with his mouth full, usually. "Thank God for people who plan for catastrophes. Hey, what else do you keep in that backpack of yours?"

"Thought you'd never ask," said the poet, reaching into it and bringing out a book. He started opening it, licking mustard from his fingers and tossing his plastic wrap aside.

And Jeremy closed his eyes—hard—his mouth forgetting to chew for an instant. He had done it again, walked right into the trap. Just when he had his guard down, whammo. Well, the poet had him. He had planned the trap well and now Jeremy was going to hear some poetry. There was just no two ways about that, unless…

"Speaking of traps," blurted Jeremy, trying to think of something to delay the inevitable, "how's _our_ little hook and line doing?"

A grin tugged at the corner of Rex's mouth over Jeremy's slip of the tongue. "The fish aren't biting," he said. "Except for their own lips, maybe." He winked at him. "The suckers."

"The _blood_ suckers," corrected Jeremy, feeling embarrassed but hopeful that the ploy would still succeed. _Get him off track, keep him off balance._

"Exactly."

There was silence for a moment too long, as Jeremy failed to fill in the gap with something more, and Rex cleared his throat. He was just about to begin reading aloud from the handwritten pages when, suddenly, a barely-audible metallic scrape reached their ears from the doorway in the alley. They both looked up in time to see the jalopy falling over the side of the parking garage, its tension wire streaming after it, and a dark form exploded through the doorway at their level. The jalopy crashed to the ground, and the bagged creature swung out, breaking away at the doorway pulley, and then slid up the wall until it swayed from the pulley at the second story.

There was a delay of about one second while nothing moved. Jeremy and Rex stood frozen. And then the bag began to shake and thrash about as the monster within fought to free itself.

Jeremy stuffed the rest of the sandwich into the breast pocket of his woolen Spring jacket and reached for his M-16, but Rex was already running into the alley with the tranquilizer gun. The small man stopped a short distance from the door beneath the swinging bag and took aim. Jeremy caught up to him just as the poet squeezed off a single shot into the middle of the bag. And a small red "flower" appeared there—the feathered end of a dart.

The darts were designed to strike and instantly inject their venom into a body, so although the thrashing of the monster caused the dart to break away and fall from the bag, it had already done its work. With the vampire's rapid metabolic rate, the sleeping-serum quickly worked its way in, and the bag became still in about thirty seconds.

"Bring the van back here with the cage," said the poet, and Jeremy handed him the M-16 and ran back to the idling vehicle.

He got in, turned and looked into the side-view mirror for guidance and began reaching for the gear lever to put the van into reverse. He could see Rex, standing there below the bag, holding the M-16 and gazing upward. Jeremy looked back at the steering column to be sure the van was in reverse, looked back out the mirror, and began backing into the alley. Suddenly, Rex disappeared from the mirror as something came hurtling out of the doorway and plowed into him. The little man was gone from view.

Jeremy slammed the brakes and threw the gear lever back into park. He sprang from the van, running for the alley where Rex was being thrown around like a rag doll. The monster howled in pain as the sun blistered her exposed flesh, but still she fought, trying to shove Rex back through the doorway and into the darkness.

Jeremy bent down as he ran, scooped the M-16 from where it had fallen and, screaming at the top of his lungs, he charged at the vampire. She nearly had Rex to the door, but the little man was still alert, and clever. He placed a foot for support against the door frame, then ducked under her arm and threw himself clear. The move left a small gap between their two bodies, but it was all Jeremy needed. He pulled the trigger, hammering lead into the chest area of the wretched beast. She shrieked in pain and rage, and might yet have escaped through the doorway, except that she turned on Jeremy instead. In the end it was several slugs from his rifle that penetrated her skull and brought her down.

The vampire hissed like a punctured tire, expiring at his feet, and Jeremy lurched his leg out of her grasp and staggered away from her toward Rex, dropping the spent magazine from his M-16 as he went.

He had to pass the open doorway to get to the fallen man who was now crawling on his belly in the other direction. The blackness of the room inside the doorway as he passed seemed to radiate a cold chill out toward him, like a gaping and hungry mouth. He took the chance and rushed by, digging frantically in his pockets for a fresh magazine for the M-16 that did not appear to be there.

_Oh, Rex, Rex!_ Jeremy cried in his mind as he approached the poet. There were several deep wounds on the man's arms and neck where the monster had bitten him. Red liquid life was already flowing from the crimson reservoir. The blood had an acidic iron smell. Even Jeremy could smell it, pungent in the air. Again, he felt the ominous presence of the darkened room surging out at them. He had to get them away from here!

The young man dropped to his knees so that he could still watch the doorway, and he reached for Rex's hands to help him to his feet. There was no way to hold onto the rifle, so Jeremy slung it over his neck and arm and let it dangle behind them. Rex took hold of him and helped by pulling himself up. The two of them began hobbling toward the van and Jeremy's eyes were glued to the black doorway as they again passed by. It had instantly transformed into a static force of evil—desire and rage. He could feel it. The blackness leered out at them, wanting them, and yet its desire was restrained because of the light. With his rifle empty, the light of the sun was their only protection now.

He could not take his eyes from that doorway, even after they had gone by. Rex was the only one looking toward the van. The poet hopped on one leg, almost pulling Jeremy along. They reached the idling vehicle, and finally Jeremy pulled his gaze from the doorway and helped Rex inside. Jeremy slid the van door shut behind them and locked everything. They were somewhat secure in the armored van.

He looked down on his friend and the horror of what was happening enveloped him. "Oh God, Oh God," he prayed aloud, "Please help us! Please don't let him die."

The poet opened his eyes and looked up at him, and Jeremy could see that the man was in tremendous pain. Rex attempted a grin, managed a grimace, and said, _"__Naked came I out of my mother's womb_…" He stopped and gurgled a little and Jeremy thought he would give up the ghost right then, but when he continued his voice was raspy but steady. _"…and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." _

"No!" shouted Jeremy. "We'll get Jonathon. We'll get you back to the base. You're gonna be all right. Do you hear? Just hang in there." He looked down at his friend and brother. "Rex? Do you hear me?"

Rex had closed his eyes tight, but he responded by nodding his head. Jeremy took his jacket off and wadded it for a pillow under the man's head. Then he climbed into the front seat and grabbed the CB.

"Jonathon! Come in, Jonathon!" he shouted into the mic. He swung back around and studied Rex's face. "Jonathon! Are you there?"

The radio crackled a reply, "Jonathon here. You don't have to yell, Little Bru'tha."

"Yes I do! Rex is hurt. We need you down here."

There was a hesitation on the other end and then, "You've got the van. Can you come get me?"

Jeremy looked at the dash. He wasn't thinking clearly. He needed to calm down. "Yeah," he said, "I think so, but we're coming right now. Start heading our way. Meet us down the street."

"Ten-four."

Jeremy drove as fast as he could manage, expecting to see the tall form of the Nigerian up ahead at any moment. But there was no sign of anyone. He drove all the way to the second site and found Jonathon loading a bagged vampire into the iron cage. Jeremy maneuvered around so that the cargo door was beside the cage.

"What are you doing?" shouted Jeremy, getting out and looking over the hood at the Nigerian. "I said Rex is hurt."

Jonathon glared at him and dropped the cage's door shut. He moved to the van and wrenched the cargo door open. There was Rex, lying in a pool of red. The expression on Jonathon's face changed instantly from annoyance to surprise and concern, as if he had not expected the injury to be so bad. He glanced back at Jeremy. "Open the back door and help me lift the cage."

Now Jeremy couldn't believe his ears. He ducked his way to the back and opened the doors, but he was boiling inside. "We don't need that stupid specimen, Jonathon!" he shouted, "Rex needs medical attention, ASAP."

The Nigerian glared at him again and then surprised him by roaring back into his face. "I said get down here and help me with this cage!" He shouted a few more things in a tongue Jeremy was glad he couldn't understand.

The twenty-one year old hesitated, returning the glare into the man's angry dark eyes. Suddenly amusement struck Jeremy from nowhere, an obscure light dawning in the midst of crisis. The Nigerian was the perfect game theorist! That's what he was. Always had been. He got his way because people thought he was just crazy enough to carry out his threats, to rage against all common sense even in the face of complete loss. It was like he knew no value except for things done his way. _Some people have the thickest skulls I will never understand!_

They were wasting time. Frustrated beyond his own belief, Jeremy jumped down and caught hold of one corner of the cage that Jonathon had dragged back there. "Idiotic game theory!" he screamed aloud. They hauled the heavy cage into the van and slammed the doors shut again. This time Jeremy jumped in with Rex and propped his head and torso up onto his lap as Jonathon got behind the wheel.

Jonathon stomped the pedal to the floorboard and headed for the base. But they still had to weave and maneuver most of the way. It made Rex's comfort impossible, but Jeremy did the best he could. He held the poet and stroked his forehead. "Just hang in there, Buddy. We're gonna get you home."

Rex opened his eyes a crack and, winced. "Jeremy," he rasped, "I want you to have something of mine…"

* * *

Victoria could not believe her eyes. She stared back at the face in the open panel, joy spreading through her being.

"Victoria, my baby. Let me in, Honey."

"Mama!" she cried and lunged forward to work the locks.

* * *

Rex the Poet quotes original poetry, and from the _Book of Job_1:21 (KJV).


	14. Chapter 14 Medic

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of Dr. Robert Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

_"Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber_

_Holy Angels guard thy bed!_

_Heavenly blessings without number_

_Gently falling on thy head."_

_-Isaac Watts (1674-1748)_

**Medic**

Judith Cooper was a slender, dark-haired woman with a strong physique. Thirty years on planet earth had taught her some hard lessons, but she also knew how to love. And she knew what things were most important in life. Her baby Victoria was safe. That was all that mattered now. _Jesus._ She breathed the sweet name in relief and thanks.

She had never expected to leave the child this long, but then the unexpected had happened and her contact in the city arrived late with news of yet another clash of mutants. The most recent twist of the Krippin virus was still spreading among the already-Infected. Plans shifted quickly and the contact, an older woman who walked with a slight limp, agreed to retrieve Victoria and bring her back to the safety zone up north. But the two of them had not yet been heard of when Judy arrived, and when she discovered that her baby was still out there in the city, she wasted no time in returning.

Now, as Judy held her baby to her cheek, all she could do was weep and thank God. Someone had looked after her child. She opened her eyes and gazed over the top of Victoria's head at the man lying on the sofa. That someone was now sick and needed help. _Well,_ she told herself, _I have fresh supplies._ She would put them to use, no matter what his condition.

"His name is Jeremy, Mama," said the beautiful little angel who clung to her side. The two of them walked together toward the sofa, and Judy smiled down at her through tear-filled eyes. The child looked clean. This young man had taken good care of her. Now he would be well taken care of. Judy knelt by Jeremy's side and felt his forehead_. Fever, obviously, but the tell-tale sign will be the eyes._ With her thumb she pushed open an eyelid and looked in. The light was too dim in the room to tell for sure. She looked at her daughter.

"Victoria, I need a light. Is there a flashlight around here?"

The little girl raised her eyebrows and inhaled quickly, a look of remembrance showing on her face. She ran to the fireplace and tried to reach the light on the mantle, standing on her tiptoes, but it was too high for her. Judy saw the dilemma and went and got the light herself. She came back to the sofa and again pulled open an eyelid, flicking on the light and shining it into Jeremy's eye.

Victoria stood beside her. "Is he going to become a bad person, Mama?" she asked gravely.

Judy set her jaw and studied the eye. The pupil was dilated, though not fully. That was good. But when she shone the light into it there was no response. It did not shrink as a normal pupil would, which meant only one thing…

She looked at her daughter and saw the little girl's concern_. Now that is amazing, _she thought.After everything the child had lost, Judy's fear as a mother was that Victoria might withdraw her feelings and resist loving or trusting people. But somehow in the short time between when Jeremy had left his note on that apartment door, informing Victoria's "guardians" where he was taking the child, and now, a special bond had been created between the two. This young man who could not be more than twenty-four or five was very important to her daughter. The realization only strengthened her resolve. There had been enough loss in the child's life already. Judy would be hanged if she did not do her utmost to prevent any more of it.

"No, honey," she heard herself say, "he isn't going to, not if we can help it."

* * *

The van rumbled through the quiet streets, its motor disturbing the peaceful reserve of numerous bird species that now thrived in the city. Lions and wolves were not the only creatures to have escaped zoos and their private owners after the plague. There were families of monkeys surviving in the city and its parks. Anything that could burrow or climb to safety from the vampires at night and find food during the day was getting along fine without all the extra traffic of man to daunt its existence.

Inside the van, Jeremy tried to hold Rex's head steady. Rex had insisted Jeremy should accept his journal. It was a hand-written tome that the poet had apparently stitched together himself, filled with thoughts and musings, poems and reflections on recent events in Rex's life.

The injured man was rambling on, now, dribbling out poetry to them in that labored breath of his, having finished bequeathing all of his earthly possessions to the driver and to Jeremy. He was just finishing an all too _apropos_ rendition of Thomas Nash's _In Time of Pestilence, _the poet's rasping and sometimes gurgling breath giving a dramatic edge to the recital that raked at Jeremy's emotions.

…_Physic himself must fade; All things to end are made; The plague full swift goes by; I am sick, I must die—Lord, have mercy on us!_

As the poem went on, Jeremy noticed that Rex's voice was becoming more and more faint. He wished he would stop. He was using up valuable energy talking. Why wouldn't he stop? _Because,_ Jeremy realized, _he is dying, doing what he loves._ No! He almost shouted it. Rex couldn't die. There had to be somebody left to smile at the world.

_…Heaven is our heritage, Earth but a player's stage. Mount we unto the sky; I am sick, I must die—Lord, have mercy on us!_

"Rex?" Jeremy asked. The poet's last words had wheezed out of him and he suddenly fell limp. "Rex?" Jeremy repeated, and gave him a shake in his lap. There was a peaceful expression on his friend's face as his head lolled back toward him. "Rex!"

Thankfully, the return trip was coming to an end. Jeremy could hear the sounds of other survivor's voices outside, coming out to greet them. The van swerved to a stop and Jeremy knew they must be outside the headquarters. Jonathon jumped out and barked some commands. Someone slid open the door next to Jeremy and Rex's body was buoyed away on a stretcher into the building.

Jeremy sat there in utter shock and disbelief. The poet was dead. No, he couldn't be. They would revive him inside. They would treat his wounds and save his life. He would be saved!

The rear doors opened and some strong hands began hauling the iron cage out of the van. Inside the monster was rousing. The cage shook and quivered in their arms as they carried it also into the building. The vampire would be subdued again and strapped to a table. The doctor was waiting. Jeremy could hear Jonathon's voice giving directions to the others, telling them how to handle the cage. His voice disappeared down the staircase and into the building.

_He is with that vampire and not with Rex,_ thought Jeremy, the fact registering its way slowly into his spinning mind. The longer he thought about it, the more hurt and angry he began to feel. Didn't Jonathon even care that his best friend was dead? _No, not dead, not dying._ _Jonathon knows he is going to be okay._

That was when someone came running up to the van and found Jeremy. "You have to go home right now! We've been fighting the fire, but the Pillagers, they…"

Jeremy drove madly to Sylvia's building, but already he could see the smoking plume even before he turned the corner and pulled up beside it. He jumped out and tried to run inside but others held him back. There had been an explosion, a gas line, someone told him. Sylvia and Ben were among the missing. It made Jeremy fight harder to get inside, to try to save his loved ones. But in the end he had been forced to accept that no one could have lived through the explosion and fire. He felt his eyes water into a flashing blur as the reflection of the horrific sight before him sank into the depths of his soul. The survivors had worked to contain the blaze and keep it from spreading to other buildings. But Jeremy's home was a complete loss. And Sylvia and Benjamin—his son—were gone, burned alive in the inferno. He sank to the curb and wept angrily into his hands.

That evening Jeremy found himself bustled off to the headquarters building where the shrinking group of survivors decided to gather for the night, for mutual solace and security in the protection of the headquarters building. The events of the day quietly buzzed among whispering lips, and the story of what had happened that day to their group slowly took shape.

They had been on watch for the Pillagers but could not be everywhere at once. Then the long cars had appeared with their armor and their machine guns. The gangs had come rolling in, causing a stir, but it turned out to be a diversionary tactic. Their true design was a kidnapping mission, for afterward it was discovered that the school had been hit by a smaller group. Their attempt at forcibly removing several women and children had been thwarted by a solitary nun wielding a submachine gun who got the drop on them. This happened while the men were fighting fires and death-white gang-bangers on false fronts. It was an excruciating blow for everyone. Their numbers had sustained great losses that day, and now the news that the evil ones were still thriving was daunting to every survivor's morale. Was there no end to the horror? What should they do next? How was further survival even possible with the entire deck seemingly stacked against them so?

"We can go north, up the coast," someone whispered.

Jeremy had forgotten where he was, no longer listening. He wandered aimlessly into the halls of the building, up and down flights of stairs, trying to deny the reality that he had lost his final family members. And somehow he arrived at a door marked "Lieutenant Colonel Robert Neville, M.D."

The door showed a crack of light and Jeremy went to it and listened, hardly knowing what he was doing. Inside, he could hear several people talking. One voice had a familiar and authoritative ring to it. It was Dr. Neville.

"…eed more test subjects, Mr. Ajagbe. It is as simple as that."

"And you shall have them." It was Jonathon! "I brought only one today, but there are more where it came from. Is my name not _Ajagbe_—_He carries off the prize_?Today, my friends and I were still green, but…"

"…Ah, your friend, the young poet…" It was a third voice interrupting, and Jeremy recognized it as that of Colonel Jeff. "That man that was hurt today, didn't I hear? How is he?"

Jeremy's ears tuned in more carefully now. He listened as Jonathon spoke. "We unfortunately…have lost him, sir."

Involuntarily, Jeremy's hand jerked to his mouth. It struck the door on the way up which creaked open. The three men inside turned and looked at him, surprised. Jeremy saw the muscles in Jonathon's jaw tighten. When Jeremy looked him in the eyes, the Nigerian looked at the floor. So, it was true! Rex was gone. Sylvia, Ben, and now Rex. All in one day.

Colonel Jeff extended a hand toward Jeremy. "Son, we all grieve your loss with you…"

But Jeremy had turned. He was running, no longer caring to hear more. He ran blindly up into the upper stories of the building, chasing stairs until he collapsed in the darkness from exhaustion and the sobs that wracked his entire body.

Slowly his breath returned, and with it, the realization that he had nothing to live for anymore. No one to breathe for. No person alive now…but Jonathon Ajagbe—_He who carries off the prize._

* * *

Rex the poet quotes from Thomas Nash's _In Time of Pestilence_ (1593).


	15. Chapter 15 Troubled

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of Dr. Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

_"Am I going mad, or did the word 'think' just escape your lips?" (The Princess Bride, 1987)_

**Troubled**

Jeremy Carter sat on the bed with his back against the wall, brooding. The new room they had given him at the headquarters infirmary was quiet as death. The building was too large now for the number of survivors it housed. For the most part his floor was vacant, few voices in the corridor interrupting his musings. He had been here for five days, refusing to eat, refusing visitors. Sylvia and Ben were gone. Burned alive. Rex was dead. The unthinkable had happened. And all he was good for now was thinking. And thinking. And…

There was a knock at his door and Jeremy leaned his head against the wall and sighed. It would no doubt be the hatchet-faced little nurse again, urging him to eat_. You need your strength, _she would say, _They need you out there. _He knew he was being unfair to the others. He knew they needed him. But he did not care.

"Go away," said Jeremy, "I'm not hungry."

"No," came a raspy reply, "but _I_ _am_ hungry."

Jeremy looked up and watched as Jonathon entered. The Nigerian had attempted to visit him once following the night after Rex's death, but Jeremy would not allow him to speak, being too angry at the time. Even now, the sight of the man filled him with resentment, but he no longer had the energy to display that anger.

There was a bouquet of wildflowers in the Nigerian's hand, an obvious peace token. He set the vase on Jeremy's desk, then sat himself down on the extra bed across from the younger man. The Nigerian hung his head and looked at the floor. Finally, he spoke.

"My bru'tha…" The man's voice sounded even more ragged than usual. He had a tired look on his face that reflected the way Jeremy himself felt. "I fear you are still angry with me…"

Jeremy looked away and stared out the window.

"You are angry with me because Rex was killed," he continued.

Jeremy shrugged and waited. Inside he felt the anger rising again. He wished he could just allow silence to speak for him, but in spite of the hunger and weakness of his body, he could not let the statement stand uncorrected. It was not because Rex had died.

He turned on Jonathon. "No. That isn't it at all. I mean, yes, but—You…" He stopped and had to choke back some of his feelings before he could get it all out. "You cared more for that _idiotic_ vampire than him! All that mattered to you was filling 'doctor's orders' and making Neville happy. And for what? What can he pay you that is worth so much for getting vampires for him? There's no money anymore. All we have is each other, remember? Rex was your best friend. And now you are the only friend _I've_ got left, and I don't even know if I can trust you. That's all that matters, and you don't even get it, do you?" Jeremy folded his arms stiffly.

The Nigerian studied him gravely through bloodshot eyes. The easy smile that usually adorned his strong features was gone, his mouth pressed together into a line. He frowned, and this time it was his turn to look away out the window at the city beyond them. When he finally spoke again Jeremy's anger was waiting like a roller coaster at the apex of its track, balanced—ready to go for yet another ride. One wrong word from Jonathon would push him over the edge. The right word might restore their friendship and bring his cycle of anger to a rest. It all teetered on what Jonathon said next. Jeremy listened and waited.

"Jeremy," the Nigerian breathed, "what can I say to express my sorrow? From my heart, Rex was my best friend. I loved him like a brother…like I love you…"

Jeremy felt a slight relief as the anger began to lose its grip. He realized he was holding his breath and allowed himself to exhale a little. He stared at his friend as the man continued.

"…I get too focused, it is true. But one thing I knew when I saw the blood flowing from him. He was as good as dead..."

"You didn't know that!" said Jeremy, jumping back in. "They could have patched him up. He might have survived."

The black man held his hand up and stopped him. "Jeremy! He wasn't _immune!"_

"What?"

"He told me," Jonathon sighed. "The contact strain would have killed him; if not, it would have turned him into one of the enemy. You know as well as I do there isn't a cure. There won't be a cure for—who knows, maybe never!"

Jeremy continued to stare at Jonathon. The powerful man leaned forward on the mattress and hung his head into his hands. Huge black fingers massaged the back of his neck. Suddenly Jeremy began to realize that his friend had grieved over the same things he was going through, but in his own way.

"He did not wish to be revived," said the black man tiredly, "if he ever got torn up like that…like the way that he was. He told me many times he would not want to be revived. But you saw me: I drove like mad anyway, to get him home—all the while knowing I would lose him one way or the other." He looked up at Jeremy. "Some of us can't show feelings the way you do, but my heart was bleeding the same as yours."

Jeremy just stared at him.

"…The same as yours, Jeremy," repeated the Nigerian. He stood to his feet and looked down at him. There was a sad look on his face that melted the rest of Jeremy's anger away. The black man extended an open palm to him.

Jeremy looked at him for a long while, looked at that outstretched hand_. If Rex was not immune and knew it, how could he have smiled at the world?_ He shook his head. Life was too confusing. Slowly, Jeremy got to his feet and took the Nigerian's hand. He still was not sure he could trust the man, but as the two of them embraced Jeremy realized he was too tired to fight away the fears anymore. He had nothing left to live for. He might as well help Jonathon catch vampires. The more danger the better. Maybe he would get killed and could go see Sylvia and Ben sooner. There was little purpose in life now, except maybe to keep Jonathon alive. The anger had subsided, but in its place a strange coolness now rested.

Two hours later they had fed Jeremy, made arrangements, checked him out of the infirmary, and finished moving Jeremy's few remaining possessions to a more private room in the headquarters building. Jonathon told him to get his strength back up. He hated to rush him, but there was a war on.

The next day, at the Nigerian's insistence they were soon off with the van, setting traps and harvesting vampires. The days and weeks that followed would spin themselves into a mundane routine, with Jeremy returning home to his room each night and finding that fewer and fewer people were around the building.

There was a secret undercurrent of gossip among the remaining survivors now—dark mutterings whispered in private, notions of escaping the city. But Jeremy took no interest in these things. To him, all hope and purpose had ascended as vapor with the rising souls of his loved ones. There was no greener side of the fence in the pastures of his mind, except for the one over that final wall which stood between him and eternity. He did his work with Jonathon now with a compliant attitude. But his heart had gone into hiding.

Their routine developed quickly into a science with little need of variability, though it was adaptable to nearly any location. Even without their third man, they learned to complete a set in under an hour, from nail gun, to counterweight, to score. They found they could drive out in a morning, make several round trips, and be home before dark with sometimes as many as five monsters bagged for the day. The record was six. But Jonathon and Neville were the only ones counting. As for Jeremy, he buried himself in the work, making preparations for their next take and sometimes planning out their upcoming sets far into the night.

Jeremy and the Nigerian rarely talked deeply now between themselves. When they spoke, their humor had become icy and mean with the prosaic Vampire being the butt of every cruel "infrahuman" joke that came to their minds. One day as Jonathon came from a delivery meeting with Dr. Neville he joined Jeremy on the stairs, joking loudly that he had known for months that he was—"like Rex"—susceptible to the contact strain of the virus.

"But," he whispered in a mock-confiding tone, "if I ever get bitten with the bug, I hope I become a vampire, Bru'tha. I want to be the meanest, baddest vampire out there. I'll wipe out all the competition and take over the city! _Hehhhhh_…"

"What then?" said Jeremy, smirking with little interest at the other's obvious intent to shock him. He no longer tried to discern the difference between Jonathon's humor and the man's true feelings. "What will you do when you're the Big Bat?" Even attempting to show this much interest in another person was taxing to Jeremy. Somehow he knew his own concern for loved ones had changed after Rex's passing. It had disappeared, hidden itself. And the realization always troubled him at night whenever he lay down to a fitful sleep. During the day he would again push it out of his mind. This he did now, but even so, he was not prepared for the answer he received.

"Then…" The Nigerian spoke in low gravelly voice, his face suddenly shedding its made-up smile and contorting into a scowl. He rolled his eyes to the side, indicating as he did, the door with Dr. Neville's name placard. "…I'll trap Neville himself." And the tone in the man's voice might have given a snow-vampire the chills.

Jeremy knew there must be things going on behind the scenes that he was not privy to. There always were. He shrugged it away. Jonathon's troubles were not his. He would leave it that way. Saying nothing, he turned and led the way up the stairs and to their ever waiting van at the curb.

Days and weeks whirled by and Jeremy found himself almost enjoying the discomfort of the vampires. Once, he purposely left a corner of the canvas tarp loose, hoping the sun would find its way to sensitive flesh within. The ploy worked all too well. The beast howled, shuddering in the bag, a patch of exposed skin smoking and sizzling from the ultraviolet rays that penetrated to it. And Jeremy, feeling disgusted with himself for the sudden thrill it gave him, hurriedly corrected the canvas. He was on the edge and he knew it. What was happening to him? What was he becoming?

One late afternoon they were finishing a set near the front entrance of what had once been a large department store. The bagged vampire was to swing from a streetlight nearby where they could easily drive underneath and drop it quickly into the iron crate. Jeremy had designed and attached a new loading platform onto the frame and receiver hitch at the rear of the van which enabled them to simply roll a cage out, and lean it upright with the trap-door opened to receive an unlucky, kicking, specter of lost humanity.

Jeremy lazily stood guard with the tranquilizer gun, which they rarely used anymore unless absolutely necessary. They knew how to retrieve the canvas and net after the vampire was safely in the cage.

The Nigerian was baiting the snare with rat blood, a preferable and readily available substitute to their own life-liquid since the little rodents had been hitting exponential population growth after the loss of mankind. There was always a rat or two at hand.

Jeremy looked on with dulled eyes from a few yards away as the Nigerian stooped to splash vinegar around his trail, masking his scent. They had made a mistake that first day with Rex, not washing away their smell. Vampires, they now knew, had not lost all rationality, or at least not instinct. Whatever it was that drove them, they seemed perceptive enough to avoid an obvious trap, at least as far as their self control allowed. Once that was exhausted they would strike. But then the process could take a half an hour longer, depending on how many monsters were in tenancy or how hungry they were. And all the while time was ticking away. So Jeremy and Jonathon used vinegar and could practically set the timer and predict to within fifteen seconds of a hit.

Jonathon stood up, turned and stood under the front doorway facing Jeremy, his back to the large room behind him. He said "I give this set a full four minutes. They have to come down the stairs in the back, then out through these clothing racks, avoiding the windows against the other wall to get to the bait here in the shadows."

The Nigerian was just taking a step to move out of the doorway when a small movement of gray caught Jeremy's eyes from the side of the room_. Probably a rat,_ he thought automatically.

Most of the glass had been broken out of windows all along the front of the building, but in that corner they were still intact, although smudged and dirty. Through the haze, Jeremy could easily make out the shape of a display counter against the wall where a cash register had once sat.

One of the first things that had attracted them to this building was all the paper money and coins littering the floor around that counter, a tell-tale sign of vampire presence. For whatever reason, the monsters seemed to be drawn to the old symbols of monetary wealth, usually decorating their floors with currency. But now, as Jeremy squinted through the glass at the counter he noticed for the first time something long and cylindrical sticking up at a diagonal angle on the wall behind it. _What is that?_ It looked familiar, but it seemed out of place back there.

The realization of what that object was hit him ever so slowly, a slow-motion bolt of lighting frying his synapses, dazzling him, but finally extracting a single memory from his brain for the solution. _A handrail._ There was a stairwell back there. A basement entrance!

"Jonathon!"

He managed to scream the name just as a gray blur erupted from behind the counter toward the doorway. The Nigerian had followed Jeremy's gaze and was already turning to meet the attack, but the vampire struck him hard as it came swinging through the doorway. The impact of the rush was powerful enough that they both flew across the sidewalk, their two bodies cracking together against the pavement in the street. A blistering howl pierced Jeremy's ears as the fading daylight began immediately to broil the creature's exposed flesh.

Jeremy had been leaning against the van until this point. He leapt free and took a few halting steps toward the struggling pair. The monster was already man-handling the Nigerian and had knocked a pistol from his grasping fingers. It now held him by the throat and twisted away, positioning itself so that the black man dangled for a moment from its outstretched arm. Jonathon's knees were buckled and his feet dragged behind him. The vampire was using the man's body as a shield, both from the sun and Jeremy's weapon.

Jeremy panicked and squeezed off a shot as the grapplers suddenly began edging back to the safety of the building's awning. The dart went wide and missed by a mile, going through an open window and plinking uselessly off the tiled floor inside. He threw the tranquilizer gun down and rushed back to the van where the M-16 rested in the gun rack.

When he came back, he saw that the Nigerian was not finished yet. He had gotten his feet back under him and found an opening. Jonathon struck the shorter vampire in the jaw, uppercut action, and then swung his specialty—a center-knuckle punch at the monster's temple. The blows landed like sledgehammers and would have felled any normal human. But the vampire only shook its head and raged into the Nigerian's face. It raised a jagged set of fingernails and slapped the side of Jonathon's head and neck in retaliation, the blow batting the man's head around like a doll and stunning him. And yet the Nigerian managed to recover and continue struggling as the monster worked him closer to the storefront.

Jeremy raised the M-16 and ran toward the pair, pointing the muzzle at the vampire. He was screaming now, yelling at the top of his lungs. It saw him coming and tried to swing the Nigerian between them, but the sun struck its face and a howl erupted from crackling lips. Instead, it turned and threw the Nigerian through the front of the building and then faced Jeremy in full sunlight just as the young man began squeezing the trigger, bullets impacting the vampire's chest and knocking it backward into the shadows of the building.

The rifle bucked in his hands as Jeremy followed them into the building, shooting the monster again and again in the chest as it staggered backward.

But they were in monster turf now in the shade. The vampire lunged once at Jeremy, swatting at the rifle and missing. It screamed into his face and then turned and caught hold of the Nigerian who was struggling to rise behind them. Jeremy chased them to the counter, still spraying lead into the vampire until his rifle's clip went empty. The vampire gave one final scream of rage and hurled itself over the counter, dragging the Nigerian behind like a rebellious child with a stolen toy. The two of them fell from Jeremy's view, down onto the lower floor.

Jeremy stopped at the counter, peering over and looking down the stairwell just in time to see Jonathon's feet kicking once then disappearing into the blackness of the room beyond.

"Hold on Jonathon!"

He began to swing himself over the counter to drop down the stairway when a chilling roar of jubilation echoed down around him from the upper story and froze him in place. The vampires upstairs had awakened, either to the shots being fired or the smell of the rat blood.

There he sat, awkwardly straddling the counter, one leg dangling toward the abyss in indecision, and the other planted on firm ground. The chorus of delight above him was too much. He was a sitting duck there in the darkness. They would be coming for him next. _Get moving, Jeremy! Get out of here!_

Terrified, he swung back away from the counter and fled from the building, the images of Jonathon's last desperate struggle burning themselves into his mind. He reached the van and jumped in, fumbling for the gear lever. There was a screeching of rubber on pavement and the van sped away, narrowly missing parked cars several times as it swerved down the block and away into the dimming light of day.

He would not return to the headquarters. He could no longer face the others. Instead, he drove—wild and aimlessly at first—until a desperate plan began forming in his horror stricken mind, and he realized he had already been unconsciously heading for the George Washington bridge.

He began thinking again, rationally now, listing the details to himself as he drove. They had just filled the van's tanks with diesel. He had fuel enough to make it. He would drive all night if necessary. He would go home—back to his townhouse in the Queens. He would stay out until morning so the vampires wouldn't see him arrive. He would hide there, until death came calling in whatever form it chose.

But of one thing he was sure. He could never return to this place. Not ever.


	16. Chapter 16 Remarkable

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of Robert Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

**Remarkable**

_"There's nothing remarkable about it. All one has to do is hit the right keys at the right time and the instrument plays itself" –Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750)_

Judy Cooper carefully examined the blood test results and frowned. She was now ninety-eight percent sure that the young man on the sofa had been exposed to the Krippin virus, but for all appearances, it seemed that somewhere he had gotten himself into a patch of the new mutation, which was perplexing. Up until now she had believed the new variant of the airborne strain could only affect the Already-infected. Jeremy was proving her wrong. _Unless he had been infected before he came into contact with it._

Silently, she ran through a mental list of if-then possibilities and finally discarded the notion. If he had been a vampire, he would not have cared for her child. And there had been no cases of the virus going into dormancy. He had to have been healthy beforehand.

Judy shook her head, realizing the futility of her mental exercises. At this point the real question was not about how he had gotten infected, but how this new strain would affect a healthy human, especially one who was showing all the normal genetic indicators of having been immune to the virus in the first place.

According to her daughter, Jeremy had been hurt yesterday afternoon while they were out scavenging. By the time Judy had arrived and given him the usual treatment of the adapted human rabies immune globulin (HRIG), it should have been already too late for him, since the track record of the mutated Krippin virus was to bring about either the very swift demise of its host, or the beginning of a fast-acting process that would essentially transform the individual into a vampire. KV did not play around once it got into an organism. But somehow Jeremy's body was still fighting the virus on its own.

It was difficult to tell who was winning.

She looked at her watch. A decision needed to be made and she wasn't sure what was best. Jeremy was fighting like no patient she had ever seen. She could leave it all up to him and just wait and see, simply continuing to keep him hydrated via enemas and giving him the usual treatment for the rabies part of the sickness. Also, there was always that vaporous hope—the potential that the young man might just possibly hold the key to a cure. It was what the world's remaining few scientists were still desperately searching for. But that was a lot to hope for.

Jeremy had been in a partial coma for nearly a day, and so far the battle seemed like a stalemate to her. His defenses would surely run out of energy soon. Then the virus would do its thing. The other option was to wake him and try to determine the best approach for treatment based on his cognizant reactions to stimuli.

Of course, there were some natural precautions she would have to take in either case. Not knowing how Jeremy would react to surprises when he awoke, he would need to be fettered. Then, she could transport him to the small laboratory she had used in the past across town. There was an isolation cell there that could hold a vampire. She had not been there in a while, but she would have all the other test equipment on hand that might be needed.

Victoria followed behind as Judy carried her bag of medical supplies and herbal remedies back into the living room.

"What are you going to do with that, Mama?" the child asked, looking at the hypodermic needle as Judy brought it out with a small glass jar of liquid. "Are you gonna give him a shot?"

"Yes, Honey."

"I tried to give him a shot from the fridge but I just couldn't." Victoria stared dreadfully at the needle.

Judy smiled down at her daughter. The girl's account of her actions had amazed Judy when she had asked Victoria to describe what had happened to Jeremy. Here the girl was, not even five years old, and she had remembered and imitated all the things she had seen Judy do in caring for the Infected. The ice had slowed the virus' attack on his body, ensuring that Judy's care would now be the most effective it could be. If he had been left untreated she was nearly certain that, by now, he would have either been dead or too far gone for helping. Only time would prove it out for sure, but it was very likely the little girl had actually saved the man's life. This Jeremy was indeed a very special case.

"That's okay, Honey. The anti-viral shots in the fridge aren't quite the same as the kind of shot I'm giving him now."

She bent over the man, took his arm and began prodding until she had zeroed in on a vein. "I just need to make sure he doesn't wake up for a little while longer," she said, and she plunged the needle in.

Victoria gasped, but the man on the sofa did not flinch.

* * *

Jeremy had reached home in his mind. The steps up to the townhouse seemed to shift beneath him, stretching away into the clouds as he climbed wearily to the haven he had been seeking the entire night. Reality was intruding. The parade of memories slowly vanished. And with its departure came…the hurt.

A light, bright and painful, stabbed its way into the fleeting comfort of dulled senses. He felt his eyelids flutter as the light came flashing in like a strobe, blinding him. Suddenly the light surrounded him, threatening to tear him to pieces. He clenched his eyelids tight against it and tried to cry out.

His voice came, strange-sounding to his ears, like a whine. _What in the—?_ He had not cried, he had…_howled_. Where was he? He tried moving his arms, his feet. They were bound.

Panic.

Jeremy thrashed against the fetters, crying out in fear and confusion. He could feel his movements rocking the surface beneath him, and the energy of his own power encouraged him. The structure began to wobble as he continued to howl and thrash. Sensitive hearing picked up the sounds of concrete crackling below. Then one of the fetters on his arm broke loose and he wrenched his hand free and felt around for the next bond. Finding it, he grabbed hold and tore it from across his chest and sat up, his eyes still clinched tight against the blinding light.

He threw his hands over his eyes and, jerking his legs from the final straps, he rolled from the bed to the floor, landing on his knees. "Heeeelllpp!" he cried, whining.

"Jeremy! Jeremy, listen to me. Can you hear me?"

The voice had vibrated through some kind of muted screen in front of him. Jeremy sprang to his feet and stumbled forward with one hand stretched out before him. The hand struck a flat surface with some give to it. He pressed against it, testing its strength and feeling the slight give. It shuddered back as he pulled away. He could hear the nearly imperceptible warbling vibration of the thick wall as it sprang back into place. And somehow he knew what it was. _Plexiglas._ _Thick Plexiglas._ It would bend but not shatter. No matter how hard he strove against it, the wall would throw him on his rear. He was in some kind of holding cell for the Infected.

"Jeremy!" The voice again. "Jeremy, can you understand what I'm saying?"

He sank back to his knees trying to show compliance, nodding his head vigorously. The voice was plainly intelligible. He did not recognize the woman making it, but the kindness and empathy inherent in it were unmistakable. She would help him if she could.

"Whoooo…" said Jeremy, trying to steady his voice. He seemed to have lost some control of his vocal chords. He would have to concentrate to communicate. "…Arrre you?"

"Jeremy, I am the mother of the little girl you were helping when you got hurt. Do you remember Victoria?"

_Victoria!_ What was wrong? Had something happened to her? Jeremy got to his feet again and slapped against the Plexiglas. He called out, attempting to ask for the child, but the sounds he made were neither pleasant to his own ears nor useful as language.

"Jeremy, she is okay! Victoria is right here with me. She is alright. You saved her, and she saved you."

Jeremy nodded, vigorously again. "Vic…toria," he said.

"Don't worry Jeremy, Mama's going to help you get better." The little girl's voice cut through the thick barrier like music.

Jeremy cupped both of his hands back over his eyes and tried to open them behind the fingers. Carefully, he let the fingers spread just enough so that he could peer out.

"Toooo bright," he howled, covering his eye-sockets again. But he had seen them both standing there, the little girl and her mother standing in front of him on the other side of the barrier, their images had already etched themselves onto his retinas. He turned slowly and put his back against the wall. There had to be some place where he could get away from the light. It came right through his eyelids.

"Jeremy, I have some special goggles for you to wear if you want them. I will turn down the lights and you should see them to your left on the table in the corner, just give me a minute..."

Immediately, even before the lights could be turned down, Jeremy was up, groping for the table. He found the goggles and pulled them over his head, covering his eyes. The brightness of the room faded immediately and he could see again. He spun and looked out through the Plexiglas. There was little Victoria with her nose pressed against it. She put her hand up and waved.

He returned the gesture weakly and looked around the cell and the room. A slender, pretty woman strode back over to the cell and stood next to Victoria.

"Jeremy, my name is Judy. Do you remember what happened to you?"

He stared at her through the darkened goggles, feeling like a human fly in a display case. _Yeah,_ he remembered. Now that he could see again and was not in pain, he was also beginning to notice some other things that had changed while he had slept. And that was besides the new surroundings. He looked down at his arm and pulled the sleeve up to examine the scratch wound. It had healed over.

"That wasn't what made you sick, Jeremy."

The woman was watching him. He put the sleeve back down and looked at her again. She obviously had the answers to the questions that were popping into his mind.

"Listen," she said, "I want to get you out of there as soon as possible if we can, but first we have to know for sure what kind of changes this infection has made in your body. Do you understand?"

He nodded, uncertain_. It should be obvious, the changes. I'm an Infected. I am becoming a vampire! _The very thought made him feel queasy and afraid. He had seen too many vampires, having studied them with hidden cameras in the night, behind the safety of his walls at home.

_Home… _He just wanted to go there right now. Where was he, anyway? What would he have to do to get out of this place? What was this woman going to do to him? Suddenly a little surprise regret leaked in. He had never stayed around to watch Dr. Neville's experiments, but now his imagination began to run wild. The possibilities were hideous.

"Jeremy, listen. You can trust me." The woman was gazing directly into his eyes when he looked back up at her, even obscured as they were behind the dark lenses. She seemed to have read his thoughts. "I know you are scared right now, but you have to trust me. I am not going to hurt you. I will try to treat you, and if we can't find a cure I will let you go free. Do you understand? I will not turn you over to anyone else. You either get well or you go free, but we need some time to do more tests."

"Wherrrre am I?"

"Still in Queens. In one of my labs. I brought you here and restrained you as a precaution. But I can see now that the bonds were not necessary. Which is good. It is _really_ good. But...I'm sorry for the scare they gave you."

He glanced mournfully back at the table. It was leaning to one side, two of the concrete anchors below having come out of the floor. The surface of the heavy table looked like a tornado had twisted it. Slowly, he reached down and picked up one of the leather straps that had torn loose. _I guess I'm a little stronger than I used to be,_ he thought as he stared at the broken area. The strap was thick! As his little finger rubbed over the frayed edge, the whole scene suddenly struck him as other-worldly. He dropped the leather and reached back, groping for the wall to steady himself. Dizzily, he let himself slide down to the floor.

"Jeremy…" The woman's voice droned on above him. He tried to listen but his head was spinning. This was really too much. This time God had gone a little too far.

"…ave an Electron microscope here at the lab," she was saying. "...been studying the DNA of your virus and comparing it with the original Krippin...and also the mutated strains. So far I have never seen anything like it…"

He looked up and saw she had come around to the other side so that she could see his face. She held a clipboard in her hand that she was looking at while she talked. _Don't tell me, _he thought, _I'm going to be a freak even among vampires._

"…Even the fact that you can understand what I'm saying right now is astounding. Jeremy, I want you to know that I've had plenty of time to study vampires. I know what to expect with them. I know how they react when they first come out of coma. But with you, I was not sure from the start. However, you are definitely different from the other vampires."

He slammed his head back against the cell wall. "Dooon't call meee a vaaampire!" he howled, "I'm a perrrson, same as you." It felt right as soon as he said it. The statement encouraged him a little.

"Okay, okay," she said. There was a gentle laughter in her voice, but it was not spiteful.

He opened his eyes and glared carefully out at her. She was smiling. She looked relieved, happy, even excited. Her teeth were perfect and white. She was older than him by a few years, but pretty when she smiled. He had to look away, unsure of what he was feeling.

"I'm just not sure what to call you yet. I mean...I'll call you Jeremy if that's okay, but... But this is not the same variant of the Krippin virus that we usually see, okay? That's all I'm trying to say." Judy put her clipboard down at her side. She was quiet for a moment and then said, "I don't know if you've reached a point of stasis with the virus or if there are more changes coming, so I won't lie to you. You're going to have to get comfortable in that cell for a while until we know for sure. And I'll be working on some remedies to help your body adapt—just for the time being, until we find a permanent solution—to the changes. Hopefully we can at least keep the virus at bay."

He watched her walk away from his vision, swinging the clipboard back up to look at it as she went. She walked with an easy but purposeful gait, and he wanted to straighten up to get a better view. Just then something tiny and pink splatted against the outside of the transparent wall beside him. A tiny hand. He spun around and saw Victoria's quizzical face near the Plexiglas.

She smiled at him and glanced at her own hand as she pressed her palm against the smooth surface, and then looked back at him expectantly. Jeremy's facial muscles contorted into a smile, understanding what she wanted. He lifted his own palm and gently pressed it against the barrier from his side, against hers. The child grinned and mouthed the words, "Don't worry."

"Victoria, Honey," Judy called to the girl from another doorway, "leave Jeremy alone now. He needs his rest."

The little girl rose to her feet and waved once more, then skipped away. And the lights went out in the big room. Jeremy pulled his goggles away and sat silently in the darkness, a myriad of questions and thoughts coursing through his mind.


	17. Chapter 17 Trial

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

**Trial**

_"Those things that nature denied to human sight, she revealed to the eyes of the soul." -Ovid (43 B.C.-17 A.D.)_

The Plexiglas cell was about fourteen feet by ten. Jeremy had already memorized every square inch of it. He knew where its weaknesses lay. He had even tried his new found super strength against those weaknesses after Judy and Victoria had retired for the night. But for some reason nothing worked. Maybe he had been trying to be too quiet about it, but the walls wouldn't budge, even when he threw everything he could muster against them, straining. He could not seem to match the initial power he had generated when—blinded and in a panic—he ripped the table that bound him right out of the floor. Now, though it was frustrating to admit, he was stuck.

The goggles Judy had gotten for him were fairly comfortable and stylish, though he hated wearing them—only because of the reason he had to. He was surprised to discover that the darkness could be manually adjusted by twisting a knob on the side. Too bad they couldn't play tunes as well. This place was intensely boring, and he couldn't seem to sleep.

He was sitting against the wall of the cell, toying with the goggles when Judy walked in carrying a steaming cup of coffee and her clipboard. She looked like she had slept some, but not well. Somewhere she had gotten herself a shower. Victoria apparently wasn't up yet.

"Good morning, Jeremy. Lights coming on."

He sent her the ugliest glare he could manage, which for all he knew might have been the _father_ of ugly looks—he had yet to see himself in a mirror and had been wondering whether his appearance had changed any. He snapped the goggles back on as Judy flipped a switch on the wall.

The buzzing of fluorescent lights fried the air, sending a strange sensation down upon him as microscopic particles bombarded his skin like angry bees, and he noticed the agitation of his nerves at the sudden changes in his environment. That was normal, though, wasn't it? No, nothing seemed right. He felt so out of touch with himself. _This lady had better have some answers,_ he told himself as he got to his feet.

Judy glanced up at him, sipping the coffee. "Sorry," she said, looking embarrassed, "I'd offer you some java, but we need to determine whether you're safe first."

_I've been awake all night, _Jeremy thought. _You could have determined that yesterday before I got so hungry._ He could feel his insides grumbling for nourishment. But when he tried visualizing what he was hungry for in particular nothing he could imagine stirred any emotion.

"My guess is, you're hungry." Judy was getting pretty good at reading his thoughts.

"Yehhh…sssss," said Jeremy, growling as politely as he could.

"Well, unfortunately, you ripped apart our I.V. equipment last night, and to feed you I'll have to slide a plate to you through the slot." She pointed to a side panel where part of the wall had been cut away in order to get small items in and out of the cell. It was one of the weak areas Jeremy had already discovered. "Either that, or I open this door and hand it to you."

"Thaaat…woould be o-kay," Jeremy said, hopefully. The muscles in his throat jerked him around whenever he tried to speak. It was embarrassing to hear his own voice, and that made him feel angry. He was the victim here. He did not deserve to be locked in a cage like some test monkey. Guiltily, then, his mind flashed back to the faces of the many vampires he himself had sent to the specimen cage at Neville's. Overnight, their memory had begun to take on a human quality. And, at the same time, he was beginning to wonder if it were actually the healthy survivors who were the real monsters. _Be careful,_ he told himself.

"Let's talk a bit more before we do that," Judy said, indicating the magnetic lock on the cell's door. "I need to know how you are feeling. I'm going to ask you some 'yes' or 'no' questions and I want you to relax and think about each one. Just nod or shake your head if you have trouble speaking. Okay?"

Jeremy shrugged.

"No, I need you to actually _nod_ your head. I don't know what 'shrug' means." Judy studied him for a few seconds and when he just stared back at her through the goggles she added, "You do want to get out of there, right? Just remember, everything is a test."

Jeremy sighed and nodded. He was going to have to figure out a way to sweet talk this lady for the present time. It was her house, her rules.

Before they began, Judy went and came back with several small plastic bags of unknown contents and slid one through to him. She instructed him to tear it open at the end and taste it. The substance was dark and pasty and had an acrid odor to it that excited his hunger. The taste was somehow familiar—almost meaty, but with a sticky texture. Jeremy was too hungry to be quizzical. He devoured the contents and reached his hand out for more.

Judy's eyes seemed to dance with pleasure while he ate. She pushed the last one to him and said, "It's my own recipe—something I came up with to help infected patients I've worked with in the past. The virus creates a greater demand in their body for certain nutrients and minerals, such as calcium and iron and other things. So their bodies need and use up those things much more quickly than before. I believe it may be the only reason they crave blood. These packets have all of those things you need, plus some herbal remedies to help your immune system stay active and functioning. I'm pretty sure it's just what your body needs right now, though I'm still working on something to help your speech return to normal."

Afterwards, Judy began going through a list of questions, asking him to notice if there were ways his body felt different from what he was used to. He had to nod on quite a few items and then she would ask a few more in-depth questions about each affirmative, to which he would again either shake his head or nod again. He began to feel more despair the longer she went on asking questions. His body had definitely changed. And he knew what it meant. He was becoming a nightmare creature, a vampire. The realization was emotionally draining. He felt the violent urge welling up within him to scream and cry out, to rage and throw himself mercilessly at the wall. Somehow he managed to stifle this. That kind of behavior would get him nowhere.

The questions suddenly changed direction and she began asking him about his thinking. Were his thoughts clear? Could he remember his name, his parents' names? Could he do math in his head. The results were cheering. Yes, he could remember everything. This had to be good.

"It is a good sign, Jeremy," Judy said, smiling reassurance. "I've worked with a lot of infected people and you are the first I've found, coming out of a coma, who was able to think clearly. I'm gaining hope every moment from this talk and I hope you are too."

When they got to the questions about his emotions, his answers began to disturb him again. It was his nerves. Every physical or mental stimulus he was experiencing so far seemed to carry with it an extra emotional tug on him, much stronger than what he had been used to. For example, one second he would be sitting there, calmly answering questions and then something would trigger a dark feeling of rage deep within him. It was all he could do to hold the emotion back. But Judy was able to help him see that the very fact that he was able to control his feelings was very non-vampire-like. She promised to explain the scientific theories for what was happening inside him later.

After the questions she had a battery of visual tests to give him. He passed the eye test easily, using the hand signals she showed him. It seemed to him that his senses were sharper than they had been before. Maybe that was why the sound of the fluorescent lighting when they first came on was such an irritant. He was not used to being so nervy. Time also seemed to have slowed a little. It was especially noticeable when he would get agitated about one thing or another. Then it was like everything slowed to a crawl and he felt like bouncing off the walls with impatience. Thankfully, his mind kept him in check, reasoning to himself that he had to remain calm, or it would get worse. That was a good instinct and, each time, things would quickly return to normal.

It must have been hours later, but Jeremy was surprised to suddenly see Victoria wander into the laboratory, still wearing her pajamas and rubbing her eyes with her little fists. There were no clocks on the wall so he really had no way to tell what time of day it was. He had thought it was daytime, but then Victoria… Something didn't seem right. He squinted out through the goggles at the interruption with keen interest. There was something about the sight of the little girl that was a dead giveaway, but what was it? When Judy returned from helping her get a drink of water and sending her back out, Jeremy determined to ask about the time of day.

"You arrre try-ing to fooool my bi…bi…bi…" He gave up trying to frame the word _biological_ and simply finished with, "clock."

Judy looked startled for a moment and then a teasing smile spread over her lips. She glanced up at him. "Okay, Jeremy," she said finally, chuckling lightly. "What time do you think it is?"

"Feeels about nooon," he admitted. "Aaand…" He looked in vain at the back of his wrist where his Rolex had been. The watch wasn't there, but somehow he knew the truth, "…it _is _noon!"

She again looked surprised and this time it was genuine. "How did you know?" She stared at him intently and added, "Yes, I wanted to see if your biological clock could be tampered with. The Infected sleep during the day, usually standing erect, fidgeting in a sort of trance. We've found we can manipulate their biological clocks by keeping them away from the normal indicators and then using false visual cues to reset them. That way we get them on our own schedules.

"More often than not, we have to use something pretty obvious—like artificial light to simulate daylight coming through windows, but on occasion a very subtle clue is all that is needed—something you wouldn't expect to trigger the subconscious mind—and they practically fall into a stupor. I was testing your subconscious with what I consider a very subtle hint, but you saw through it." She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment longer, and then: "I'd like to know how you knew."

He felt excited that he had noticed. So it was true—his mind was sharper than usual, he had been right about that. "Vic…toria," he explained, gesturing at the door the five year old had exited from. "Sheee was only pre…tending to be sleeepy."

The girl had been play acting for him—probably at the direction of her mother—attempting to make him think it was still night. The ploy amused him. It might have worked except for one thing. Her beautiful golden hair had been too tidy for a child who had just gotten up from bed for a drink of water. That, and… hopefully it was a little bit of something else still left inside him. _Human Intuition._

Judy appeared impressed. She stared at Jeremy for a while and finally nodded at him, smiling. He could tell she wasn't ready to let him come out yet, but she was thinking about it. That was enough for now. He could tear his hair out when she wasn't looking. But the time would come when she would be convinced and he would be free. Jeremy clenched his jaw and counted backwards while trying to force a smile. He could do this.

"I know you want to get out of there," said the woman. "But first things first. I need a urine sample. I need to make sure I get the right medication for you."

He looked around him. There was certainly no privacy here. He took the plastic cup she proffered and, glaring back at her as he walked to the opposite corner, he reached down and hurriedly did the business. Judy looked away as he struggled to close his blue jeans with one hand. He brought her the sample and she disappeared into another room with the prize. _The Lab,_ he thought.

Jeremy paced in the cage, every muscle and tendon in his body practically crying out to be used. Every step he made seemed to work him up even more. He could feel the energy from the food she had given him earlier. It had long since been assimilated into his system and now the energy was getting almost too much to bear. Every second seemed to drag by. He stared at the clock on the wall at the far end of the room and wondered if the second hand had frozen. No, it was moving, but at a snail's pace.

_I've got to do something to pass the time or my mind (and body both) will explode in here_. He looked around the cell again. There was not much in here. The twisted table still lay pushed into a corner where he had left it. The only other furniture in the room was the Plexiglas table where the goggles had been sitting. What could he do with this stuff? It would have to be something pretty interesting, but what? He focused on the iron table again and started considering its possibilities. There were some small pieces, some bolts and nuts. What if he took the thing apart and sorted through its inventory?

He was just getting into his work, putting together an idea to use the parts of the table to create something useful for an escape when Judy returned. She stopped and stared in amazement when she saw his concentration and what he had done.

Jeremy looked up at her and then back down at his work. He had completely disassembled the table, bolt by bolt, using bare fingers to twist the nuts off. That in itself had been fun. He had always had to use tools before. Now his skin seemed so much tougher. He wondered at that. How could a viral infection make him stronger, anyway?

He got to his feet, having made sure there was nothing visible in his workmanship to clue Judy into his motives.

"I need to get you out of there before you go crazy, Jeremy. At least you aren't doing anything too destructive yet." What she didn't know couldn't hurt _him_.

Judy placed some pills into a bin on her side of the slot, and Jeremy went to it to see what she had for him. "Just take these and we'll see if it helps." She had a stand with her, the kind that usually held an I.V. bag. Hanging suspended from it was a large bottle of water. She pressed the drinking tube into the slot and he used it to wash the pills down his throat.

"Those should help your vocal cords and allow you to talk to me. I hope that will be the first thing we notice, because I can imagine your frustration about this communication barrier. There are some vitamins and minerals in it as well that your body will continually need. And…I've added some experimental things to help you control emotion."

Jeremy wished he could go to sleep, wake up, and have the problems gone. He could no longer even sit down to wait, and began pacing back and forth. Finally he noticed Judy was again staring at his work with the iron. She shook her head and seemed to be considering something.

"Listen," she said, "I'm pretty sure these pills are going to help. But it is just going to take some time before I get your chemistry balanced out. Can you stay in there another day or so?"

It was too much. Jeremy's hands went to his hair. He began to howl and stamp his feet, as the feeling of rage rushed over him, contorting his face and taking control of his will. He threw his chest up against the Plexiglas and bounced off in a display of rage toward the woman. He had to get some exercise. It wasn't right to keep him caged. He could tear her to pieces for what she had just asked of him. The inhumanity of it was…

Suddenly, the door opened and Victoria poked her head in. "Mama!" Jeremy saw her mouth the word. And Judy turned to look.

Jeremy stopped mid-tantrum and watched the little girl approach. She was lugging an oversized book in her hands. It looked vaguely familiar. She walked right up to her mother and showed the book to her.

Judy had stepped back from the cell when he first banged against it. She stooped to whisper something to Victoria now that Jeremy couldn't hear. And then the child came up to Jeremy and showed him the book. It had belonged to Rex! The Poet's hand stitched tome!

"I found this story book in your van. It has pictures. Can you read it to me when you get better?" She beamed up at him.

He felt his mouth gaping. What could he say? What could he do? The anger melted out of him as easy as butter for the little girl. His body still felt like beating things into powder, but he definitely couldn't do anything that would scare the child. He looked back at Judy who was standing behind her daughter now. She put her hands on Victoria's shoulders and met his eyes. He had forgotten all about Rex and the book. It was so easy to forget all the goodness that could still exist in such a broken world. A good healthy wave of shame washed over him. _Ah, humanity again._ He hadn't lost everything, not yet.

Finally, he got down on one knee and looked the little girl in the eye. She was gazing back at him with expectancy and he nodded vigorously to her. Victoria's face brightened even more, and she turned her head up and shared a jubilant grin with her mother, then turned and skipped out of the room. Still lugging the book.

He stared at Judy and she tried to hide a little smirk. Had she put Victoria up to that one, too? They were an amazing pair. He was falling in love, or something.

It was the end of his tantrum. But he still needed some exercise.

When the lights went out for the night, Jeremy bounced around in his cage for an hour before settling back down to his project. He did not know how to relax yet in this new body, and his mind was forever working. He would build something to escape with. Maybe he could do it without Judy ever finding out.


	18. Chapter 18 Exploration

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

**Exploration**

_"The testing of life support systems will certainly be useful, ... But on the psychological side, the real human factor is not whether people go crazy living in a tin: they don't. It's whether they can put up with the overwork once they arrive on Mars and start a rigorous programme of field exploration." —Robert Zubrin_

With a cracking pop the walls at the bottom of one corner of the cell separated from one another. Jeremy had created a lever from the iron table which allowed him to use the opposing walls against one another. When he worked the lever in the middle, the seam at one corner of the cell had begun to divide. Thanks in part to his freakish strength, he was almost free!

Throwing the lever aside, he rushed to the fault line and forced the crack open further with his bare hands, jamming fingertips into the seam and wedging the opening wide enough to squeeze elbows and then the rest of his body through at the bottom of the cell. He was relieved to see that the entire joint had not split. The walls were ready to snap back together automatically once he had gone through. That was good.

Almost completely through, he had a sudden concern whether he would be able to get back in the same way. If the walls closed, there would be nothing to grip from the outside. Thinking quickly, his hand reached back and grabbed a short piece of flat iron before he let the crack close again. This, he left wedged behind him. Standing up now, he saw that the walls had returned to their positions, except for the flat iron sticking out. He guessed if the iron was removed the cell would appear normal. Judy would not be able to tell.

He stood, looking around the room through the goggles. The lights in the big room were out, and he had turned the knob on the side of his eyewear to the non-filtered setting. The goggles had several layers of light-darkening filters that flipped down internally, one over the next as the knob on the side was adjusted. So they didn't need batteries to operate. He could select between different shades of darkness, from a total of eight visors down—which he guessed might be functional as welding goggles—and then all the way back up to none at all but a clear protective shield.

A feeling of exuberance passed over him as he looked back at his handiwork. With the escape now completed he knew exactly what had to be done. Exercise.

Jeremy slunk to the main door, and tried the knob. Surprisingly, it was not locked from the other side. Judy was counting on the Plexiglas to hold him. He went through the door, entering a hallway that branched off into different rooms including a decently sized kitchen that he passed on his left. At the end of the hallway there were stairs leading upward, and a red glow on the white block walls bore witness to an exit sign further up. He crept to the foot of the stairs, and looked back once more to be sure there was no one hiding in the shadows, watching.

_No one._ Was it his own sense of guilt? Why did it feel like he was being watched? He scanned the hallway again and then disappeared up the stairway, following the red glow.

Outside, the night was clear and somewhat cooler than he had expected. Jeremy wished he had a jacket to pull about him, or even his old sweat shirt he had peeled off earlier. This was still late August and it was usually comfortably warm here this time of year—for anyone acclimated to the area. But his sense of cold could be the result of an elevated body temperature. Judy had shown him some of the results of his tests, saying his temperature was above normal, but not as high as a typical KV patient's. _That's right, thank you, Judy. I'm a "patient," not vampire._

Jeremy shivered in his T-shirt and Jeans, scanning the streets for any movement. It looked safe. Well, there was one way to get warm. It was probably the same way a "typical" vampire did it. Jeremy tensed his legs and descended the concrete steps with a bound, landing noiselessly in a crouch that seemed both animalistic and natural at the same time. He turned, still crouching, and gazed back up at the building he'd come from to get his bearings. _No sense in getting lost_. The building looked old. Brick. It might have once been a hospital. With Judy's lab being downstairs, it probably _was_ once a hospital.

The energy that he had been suppressing for an eternity welled within him, now. He began to move, immediately shifting from slow, cautious steps into a comfortable loping run that felt exhilarating. But something within him demanded more. Ducking his chin, he poured on the speed, and the sudden burst felt like a wonderful gift of strength in his legs and chest. Before he knew it, he was leaping over whole cars and catapulting himself through the air against the sides of buildings and off again into the streets. Up ahead, he saw a light pole leaning into the street, damaged from something that had run into it in the city's recent past. Jeremy sprang into the air, grabbed at the post and swung himself off into the night, screaming with pleasure. Every fiber of his being was loving this use of itself. For a sick man, he had never felt more alive.

* * *

Judy arose in the night to an alarm buzzing near her bed. She rolled to her knees beside the bed and picked up a small box from the nightstand, pressing a button on its side. The buzzing stopped and a tiny green screen appeared on the face of the box, lighting up the room with the flickering images from an infrared security camera. Judy watched as the dark shape of a man came through a doorway into the hall and passed through, pausing briefly once at the bottom of the stairs and nearly looking directly into the camera's lens. It was Jeremy.

She turned and squinted into the darkness of the room. Victoria was sleeping in the twin bed at the other end. The buzzing hadn't disturbed her. Judy got to her feet slowly, pulling a nylon gun harness from the nightstand drawer. She carefully slipped from the room, closing the door behind her silently, and began strapping on the harness. It held an Uzi under her left arm and three full clips beneath her right—Not exactly a light weight rig, nor would it have been considered easily concealable by pre-plague standards, but none of that mattered anymore. Nowadays, it was just as much an advantage that your opponents knew you were armed and dangerous—up front—as it was to leave them wondering what you had. And the shoulder harness with its added bulk beneath the leather coat she now pulled over it accomplished both, either way.

Her combat boots, she had gratefully left stowed beneath a bench near the foot of the stairs when they had moved into the building again. She hadn't been expecting to have to wear them again so soon. They were lightweight and comfortable, but not really her style. And none of this was, really. It didn't matter. She pulled the boots back on, tying them expertly about her calves, shifting once again into the mindset that it took to don such precautions whenever a survivor needed to "do what one must."

To go out blindly tonight would be inviting destruction—both for herself and for her daughter. If she were to be seen even leaving the building, or if she was to leave a fresh scent trail, it would be all over. The vampires would pinpoint their location and come calling at their doorstep within minutes. That was an unacceptable risk, and yet Jeremy had already gone out taken that risk for all of them. She couldn't judge him, he must have had his reasons, but he had made a decision that would affect them all.

Judy was not without recourse, however. If Jeremy got into trouble and made a single mistake out there, she would need to know beforehand. The question would be whether to let him back in should he return, or whether they should even be here when and if he did.

She climbed the stairs, moving on past the exit sign, past boarded windows and to the next floor. She walked down a darkened corridor to a door at the end, pulled a key from the pocket of the jacket and inserted it into the lock.

Inside, there were boarded windows against one wall, and a roomful of security monitors—each one reflecting the view of a strategically placed infrared camera along the street outside. The cameras had been positioned throughout a large radius around the building, giving multi-views of the surrounding blocks to anyone within the observation room. There were also some cameras in further-out areas where vampire behavior had been observed in the past. A large generator in the basement, fueled by a continuous supply of natural gas via underground piping, kept everything running smoothly.

This building with its lab equipment and security measures had been used as a local headquarters for survivors in the Queens area for a short time after the plague began. Its record was identical to other similar headquarters she was familiar with; it had served its purposes until local survivors were slowly whittled away to nothing, some fleeing toward rumored havens of better safety zones, and most falling victim to vampires or the plague. It was sad to think about. It took a lot of guts to keep surviving. Guts, and the ability to stick with one's decisions.

Judy kept her eyes floating across the screens, looking for any movement. Everything seemed so vacant now. So dead. She couldn't help wondering what the city would be like now, had everyone stayed together according to original plans. Would there be others here with her now, still surviving? She and her daughter might not be alone, in danger right now.

Jeremy was an enigma in more ways than one. Like Judy herself, his experience did not fit the typical survivor's profile. Most people who went out on their own, leaving the safety of numbers did not last long. That, she knew perfectly well. But Jeremy had survived a long time on his own in the city. He had grown street-smart, developed skills, living with other survivors in Manhattan—one of the most organized groups that she had run across. That, for them, had been by necessity. For months after the plague broke out, the survivors there had all been trapped, unless they could find some way to escape the island. But then they would have had to fight their way across areas still populated with gangs of looters and cautious, trigger-happy citizens. Staying put, in the long run, had proved all around as the best choice. But Jeremy…

There was a flicker on one of the screens. Judy sat straight up and watched as the figure of a man dressed in a T-shirt and jeans cartwheeled over a parked car, landing in a perfectly executed round-off. He had sprung nearly across the entire street in a single bound. She recognized the goggles immediately. Jeremy was standing there like an astronaut, looking back over his feats like he'd just discovered that gravity could no longer hold him.

But even from the distance of his position to the camera Judy could see the exuberant smile beneath his goggles fade, and he seemed to be looking off past the view of the camera at something that had just caught his attention. She couldn't see what. TV had always been so maddening that way! Suddenly, the man whirled—almost faster than she could follow—and disappeared through the broken doorway of a shop he had been standing nearby.

_Whoa!_ The speed with which he had moved—she hadn't expected it. It usually took an infected person some time before they developed fully into the monstrosity they were to become. That was the danger of exercise—it beat the body into a weapon, but all the while, taking important nutrients away from other systems to do it. It ravaged their minds, probably just as much as the virus itself. That was at least one of the things that made them so crazy. She should have warned him better. He would need to get nourishment very soon.

Judy scanned the other monitors, but there didn't seem to be any other movements just yet. She walked up to the monitor which Jeremy's image had recently graced. The shop fronts along that street were all connected together in one long series of signs and doorways and windows, but the nearest sign to the doorway he had gone through said "AEROSOLES" in what appeared on the monitor as large, antique-styled lettering above a metal-curtained front. Jeremy had gone through a doorway just to the left of that shop. She looked at the monitor again and took note of the address which was hand-written on a piece of masking tape stuck to the bottom edge of the frame. Amazing, in only a few minutes he had made it all the way to Steinway. She hoped he knew where he was. On the other hand, it might be better for them if he didn't.

That thought did not feel right to her. Jeremy was different. He had to be. If there was ever an infected person worth saving, it was him. Victoria would attest to that. But what could Judy do now? In the morning, they could go looking for him. The monitors would record any other movements for playback tomorrow. As it was, tonight she had some work to do out in front of the building.

She made one last sweep of the monitors showing the streets surrounding the building and block, decided it was clear, and then headed back down the stairs to check on Victoria. The child was still asleep, _perfect little angel._ She stopped in the kitchen, grabbed a spray bottle of white vinegar from a cabinet, and then went back up the stairs to the exit sign. Slowly she pressed on the door's crash bar until it gave, and then cracked the door open just enough to peer out. It was black out there, and quiet…


	19. Chapter 19 Desiiire

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

"_Solitude is impractical and yet society is fatal"—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)_

_**Desiiire**_

The hunger was like a knife—loose inside his gut—tearing, cutting; an almost vocal desire, screaming to be fulfilled. Jeremy crouched in the darkness of the room now, listening for any warnings from the quiet streets outside.

He had smelled them first, seen them later—several of the monsters as they turned onto the street about two blocks northeast of where he had stood. They had all been looking behind them as they came, as if they were part of a parade and the main event was still following. Immediately, then, he'd bolted for the first hiding place he could find. And now, crouching in the dark behind a wooden desk, he was noticing for the first time the pains in his gut and body. The pain had been there all along during the night, growing quietly while he was playing in the streets, but he had not been aware of it; not while he was running and moving and jumping.

That had been too thrilling. He could practically fly; it was so amazing. Thinking back to security cameras he had studied over the past years, he was sure he had never witnessed any vampire moving like he had been doing tonight. But, sitting still now, he could suddenly understand why_. Conservation of vital energy! _The vampires would never tax themselves without purpose. It hurt too much.

If he didn't get some nourishment, and soon, those screaming inner voices would take over. He knew it, as sure as a sick man awakes in the night and knows he must get somewhere to puke. It was just a matter of time before Jeremy would lose the war. Already, something ugly was raising its head within him. And the voice was demanding, beast-like.

He looked around at his surroundings again. The upstairs room was open but narrowly built, with a small office and bathroom in the back. A thick foam mat covered most of the floor. One entire wall was paneled with large glass mirrors, some of which were broken but most still intact. There were a few ornately decorated swords hanging along the side walls, as well as some other types of blunt and bladed weapons scattered around the room. _A martial arts school,_ he guessed.

A voice bellowed at him from within. He suddenly felt like taking one of those swords down from the wall and going out into the street after some fresh vampire meat, _right now!_

_Jeremy! Get a hold of yourself._ The sheer boldness of the sudden whim had blind-sided him. Deliberately, he managed to wrench his mind from its grasp. The battle was brief, but the mental victory took substantial effort. It was like another person was living in his body, in the shadows. And it just decided to announce the fact by springing at him like a wild animal, vying for control.

Jeremy sucked some deep breaths to calm himself. _Whoa._ And the scary thing was, with the nature of things the way they were now, he just might give in to such an idiotic idea. Wiping perspiration from his forehead, he could feel the pulse tapping away in his temples, slowly returning to normal. This time, Reason had pulled him back. But next time? _Oh God, what is happening to me?_

What were they doing out there, anyway? His mind slid back to the vampires. Surely they would have sensed him by now. He had been bouncing all over the street, unwittingly spreading human scent. If they hadn't smelled it yet, he was just plain lucky, since there was no real protection in hiding up here in the dark.

He glanced around, considering options. An escape would require space to move, but he had been in too much of a hurry initially, just finding a hiding place to even think of checking for something as clever as a rear exit. Okay. There probably was an exit back there somewhere. He was going to find out very soon, but it would also have to be at the right moment.

_No! It must be now! _Another demand, more impassioned than before.

Before he knew what he was doing, the impulse had carried him halfway across the room and to the windows. He stood, trembling, gazing down into the darkened street. Just below, he could see the dark shapes of several dozen vampires milling about. The angry demand that had gripped him only a moment earlier fizzled away and left him cold. He felt his knees turn to rubber beneath him at the sight of so many...so many of them.

Ghastly, lean figures surged among the crowd which fluxed and swooned like a grey mirage, each individual moving of its own accord, but contributing to the complexity of the movement of the whole. The vampires had approached silently, but now that he was up against the streetside edge he could hear them making strange hissing sounds to one another. Had they found his scent? _Why aren't they coming up here?_

Something within him suddenly demanded he go down there and take one of them. It came as a complete thought—all in picture form, not words—himself carrying the vanquished's carcass back up here to… _Ugh!_ _Disgusting!_ He shrank at the thought, nearly gagging, and felt his pulse quicken even more. A trickle of perspiration vaporized at the back of his neck before it had a chance to run down his back. He clapped a hand over his mouth, and the goggles he was wearing fogged over for a second. Those things down there were despicable, filthy creatures. Sick! Poor souls. _But not food._

Without realizing it, as he was trying to force the thought from his head, he had pressed his nose against the window. The hunger had ebbed some, but it had to get in another word. A small mournful whimper escaped his throat as he stared down at the vampire pack outside.

They were getting louder now. Shrieks and howls from the outer edges of the crowd seemed to encourage some kind of morbid action from those closer to the center. Jeremy watched, mesmerized. They were getting ready to fight. Like cats squaring off, or wolves, they circled. Someone was going to end up on the meal plan tonight, perhaps? Every one down there seemed to treat the event as a natural, expected thing, each one playing his role. Was this a nightly ritual when food was scarce and they couldn't find easier game?

One of the larger males suddenly sprang from the edges of the center and tried to grab at a smaller female that had gotten herself shoved forward. But another male intercepted the movement and slapped back at the aggressor. The first vampire screamed in rage but did not attack further and the two males faced off for a few seconds, each of them vocalizing their complaints at one another before blending back into the milling crowd. The same thing happened twice more between others as the entire group moved on down the block.

Jeremy had forgotten himself for a minute, suddenly engrossed with the scene, but now the hunger returned in force. The vampires were moving steadily down the street and away from his view. He couldn't help himself, he leaned back on his calves and whined in desperation, much like a puppy longing to be free of its kennel. But still he managed to wait.

It was a good two minutes before his will gave in and he allowed himself to come down the wooden stairs to the street. Sword trembling in his hand from fatigue as much as fear, he stole a glance one way and then another from the broken doorway. And, assured of safety, he came stealthily out and crouched behind a parked car.

He sniffed the air. It was thick with the odor of vampire. Why hadn't they taken notice of his scent? Self consciously, he raised his sword arm and smelled his own arm pit. It was the first time he'd thought to do this and was not ready for the result. His was a strong, almost textured smell, but not necessarily unpleasant. There was still a kind of humanness to it, in spite of the recent changes in his chemistry, but it seemed there was something else as well—a unique quality he had never expected.

Now he was curious. In spite of the fire still raging in his belly, he made himself go around the street, carefully smelling all the surfaces that vampires had touched. There were dozens of scents, all swirled together, but not really mixed—definitely a tapestry of smells. Individuals, not just some collective. He sniffed at his own skin again and noted a similarity relative to all of the scents. Humanity plus. Plus what? _Plus…whatever. Krippin virus. _That was in every scent, but then there were the individual textures. It was stunning that he could now pick them out so carefully.

He straightened up and listened to the night. The hissing could still be heard down the street, now that he knew what to listen for. _What to do?_ He could hurry back to the lab and to the cell. But morning was still hours away. His appetite had calmed some, now that he was being less active, but it still hurt. How would he get anything to eat without waking Judy? Right now, he would hardly trust himself in her presence. But she had given him something very tasty to eat earlier. That is what he craved now, but he didn't know how to make it for himself yet.

Howls and shrieks cut through the stillness from several blocks away. Something was happening with the vampires to the southwest. This time he didn't even try to hold himself back. Forgotten was the debate of going home. He found himself loping down the street toward the tail end of the pack. The sword in his right hand skimmed smoothly over the concrete as he went, glittering dangerously in the moonlight.

* * *

Judy had misted vinegar from her spray bottle over the entire sidewalk in front of the building, and then back up the front steps, covering Jeremy's trail. Sloshing vinegar from a jug was okay in the daytime, but a fine mist was necessary at night when a vampire could come along and pick up a trail as easily from the air as from the ground.

She'd only been out for a few minutes and was quick to return to the safety of the building. She shuddered as she hurried through the doorway. It was always very eerie going outside at night, like in every horror flick she could remember seeing as a teenager, where an owl hoots from a tree and the protagonist jumps out of her skin. Every little noise in the night was startling. She closed the door and pulled on the crash bar until she heard it catch behind her, laughing nervously at her own reaction to things. She stood there for a minute, breathing and thinking about Jeremy out there on his own.

Had he been found by now, and torn apart by vampires? _Oh God, please…let your hand be with him._ The things she knew from observing vampire society were pretty vicious. He might pass as a vampire already, especially having just exercised; they might not recognize him as human by his scent. But an interloper would probably not be well received. Out there, you definitely lived by and depended on the strength of your allies.

Her eyes felt swollen with fatigue and she closed them tightly. Some of that, she realized, was disappointment with what had happened. _Why would Jeremy do this?_ But what had she expected? The man was infected, after all, and even if she wanted him to be different... _Oh, Judy, what were you thinking?_ _He's gone._ For a moment she thought about going back to the monitors upstairs, but it was late. She couldn't do anything to help him tonight. Wearily, her head drooped in resignation. She would try to find out tomorrow…if there was anything left of him. For now, she needed rest.

She slowly bumped her way down the stairs and tiptoed around, resetting alarms and checking motion detectors. Then, back in the room with Victoria, the child was breathing deeply, still asleep. Judy laid down on her own bed, fully dressed. One-by-one, she situated booted feet on the bed. She was tired. The last thing she remembered was checking the safety on her Uzi and shifting it to a more comfortable position beneath the coat she was still wearing. Her eyes closed. She slept.


	20. Chapter 20 Discovery

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

"_The engineer's first problem in any design situation is __to discover what the problem really is."_ _— Unknown._

**Discovery**

Grey, half-clothed creatures shifted restlessly, heaving and constantly swapping positions before Jeremy's eyes. He had removed his goggles and stuffed them into the pocket of his jeans as a precaution against being noticed, but only the stars and moon lit the city now. It was dark enough to see.

The intensity of their howls and shrieks was growing, and a strange tingle crept up his spine_—_both fear and excitement. He was close enough to see every one of them clearly. At certain moments, he might have even reached out and touched some of the closer ones with the edge of his sword, but he held back, afraid of drawing the attention of the pack. For some reason, none had yet noticed him. Each one seemed too keenly interested in the outcome of the strange ritual. He aimed to keep it that way, and so his newly acquired sword stayed stiffly behind him as he hedged their outer rim, keeping parked cars between himself and the pack as a safety margin, and carefully spying from gaps between bumpers.

Almost every member present was bald, completely hairless with only a few exceptions. It was a condition of the disease, he knew. He caught himself wondering just how long he had before his own fell out. It was something to ask Judy about. _Nice, I'm standing ten feet away from certain death and worrying about my hairline._

Any one of the monsters looked as though they could tear him to ribbons. Even the females were well muscled and sinewy; not an ounce of fat showed beneath translucent skins. Long, impressive fingernails and unnaturally protruding teeth bore witness to the virus's ability to utilize all the calcium their bodies could latch onto, to make bones, teeth and nails, and even muscles and skin stronger than ever before.

He was no longer fooling himself. Surrounded by such a magnificent display of brute strength and pseudo-vitality, it was obvious that his recent descent down the ladder of humanity to vampire could not match the energy they exuded. All the same, he had definitely surprised himself by getting this close, but there was something more than morbid curiosity drawing him. Something had caught his attention, something so peculiar that even own his fear of being devoured by savage humans could not overcome the sudden urge to know more. Jeremy crouched lower and moved around to another parked car. Right now, there was something going on at the center of the mob, and though it wasn't really what had attracted his attention, he needed a better view.

A tall, broad shouldered male had taken up the most prominent position in the center of the ring, raging at the others, veins popping in his neck and arms. There was something about the creature's presentation that commanded respect from all other participants. Jeremy could see it on their faces, the way they hung back and looked away from the big male whenever he would come close to one of them or even glance their direction. Every now and then the monster would beat his great heaving chest with fists so large they looked like parking meters, and then he would yank one or two of the next largest vampires from the front of the group, only to toss them aside like rag dolls. The big vampire's neck was thickly muscled, supporting a large, bony looking head, with a face so criss-crossed with varicose veins and scars it looked like the roadmap to hell. The creature had definitely seen its share of death matches.

Jeremy knew immediately this had to be the local Alpha, and clearly the master of ceremonies tonight. A brief study of its eyes and he could see there was more than the usual flicker of intelligence behind them, but not much. Was it even capable of leading the rest of these pathetic souls? Jeremy looked around and saw how they all feared and groveled at its feet. So, apparently the thing could lead, but what was it leading them to? What was the purpose of this whole parade? The Alpha had let the ceremony play out, but now even it seemed to be getting impatient.

As the group moved through the streets, the Alpha finally seemed to reach a conclusion. It stopped and barked a halt to the procession. The entire pack hung back and stepped away from its pointing finger. Vampires moved aside until a single female was left alone, standing in the path. The Alpha clutched his fist together and gestured violently for her to come to him. Those nearby began reaching for her as well, for it was clear that she did not intend to go on her own.

Suddenly, another large male sprang out beside the female and slapped away the reaching hands. The others fell back, screaming and hooting. It was a direct challenge to the leader. Vampires hissed and shook their heads at the outrage. They were all hungry, but none seemed willing to do more than verbally protest, at least not without an order from the king. Their chests heaved and fluttered as the challenger stepped out away from them.

The new male was big, but not nearly as tall as the Alpha. It was difficult to gauge the weight of these creatures because of their lack of body fat, but Jeremy figured the new one might top out around one-ninety or two-hundred. The pack leader was at least two-fifty, an easy shoo-in for this fight. Without hesitating, the smaller vampire charged forward with lightning speed at the Alpha, and Jeremy cringed, expecting to hear a terrific impact of bodies. But at the last second, the Alpha simply swiped the combatant aside sending him careening into the side of a wall. Brick shards flew as the the attacker made contact. He picked himself up and swung back, snarling at the Alpha. His chances did not look good.

The other vampires began jumping into the air, shrieking with excitement and bloodlust. Their bobbing bodies impaired Jeremy's view for a second and he too rose up from behind a squad car for a better look. Just then, the crowd parted in front of him and the challenging vampire came sailing right through and struck the side of the car. The squad car moved a good three feet laterally, bounced up on the curb with the rear end and smacked into Jeremy's right thigh. There was no time to react and he was thrown to the ground. He leapt to his feet, sword coming out into the open, and ready to fight or flee. He glanced frantically around, afraid he had been seen.

No one was even looking at him. _Tunnel vision! Thank God for narrow minds._ Quickly he concealed the sword again and fearfully began moving away from the group. It was plain what was going to happen here, anyway. The loser would become the catered dish for the party and then…

Jeremy stopped. He had nearly forgotten, but at the last second he had seen it again from the corner of his eye: The thing that had drawn him in this close in the first place.

Among the jumping, crazed bodies, there were several vampires standing along the outer rim, much the same way that he was. They were not actively leaping up and down like the others. In fact, they seemed to be more like spectators than anything else. He looked more closely. There were three of them, huddled together at the outer edge at the south end of the ring to his left. They were dressed more completely than other vampires here. Yeah, the clothing was still old and used, but it was not shredded or falling off of them in rags. One of them even wore a long, green tattered coat. That was what Jeremy had noticed before, their clothing. That, and their hair. Each one seemed to show little tufts of fuzz here and there on their otherwise bald pates. He had almost missed noticing it at first, since their arrangement among the rest of the group had been more scattered before, but now for some reason they had all drifted into one area. And...no, it seemed too human...but they actually seemed to be in _conference_. As Jeremy stared at them, he noticed one of them stoop at the level of another's ear and then move swiftly away back into the group. The third one melted off as well, leaving only one behind.

Jeremy's eyes fixed on the one with the coat, now, watching carefully as it appeared to reach a bony white hand into the pocket of its jacket. Now it seemed to be digging for something. _What in the—? _

A vampire suddenly bobbed in front of Jeremy's view and he nearly cuffed it on the head with his sword in frustration. Instead, he quickly moved to see around it. Where had the green coat gone? Ah, there it was. Yes, the monster was actually pulling something from the pocket! This was more than earth-shaking; it was appalling! Jeremy, along with every other survivor he'd known, had assumed vampires had no aptitude for weaponry extension or devices beyond their own appendages; they were too dumb to use tools. It was the one saving grace for the survivors, mankind's only advantage. But to now see that vampire withdraw an object from its pocket was devastating to Jeremy. He trembled.

It got worse. Watching in horror, Jeremy next saw the monster bow its head over the object and begin touching it with a second object. A stick or something. No, that wasn't it. The end of the stick wiggled around briefly. The action looked all too familiar. _No! It can't be! No! _

Jeremy suddenly became aware he was standing among vampires. His mind had been too engrossed. Now his margin of safety had been overrun. Their springing bodies bumped and slammed into him as the group once again began down the street, this time rushing much more forcefully. The challenger had been vanquished. Both its carcass and that of the female were being borne aloft, torn back and forth to shreds by their feeding-frenzied comrades. He hid his face, turning away, afraid the vampires would notice his hair and skin. But their craze for nourishment had consumed them and they passed by without interest. He staggered backward until the sword jutting from behind him struck brick and mortar; his heart raced with adrenaline. _Careful, careful, they'll smell your fear. _When he looked back for the one with the coat and pen it had disappeared into the crowd. Mortified, Jeremy turned and fled in the opposite direction.

A few minutes later, he paced quickly back and forth in an alley. His stomach and muscles were screaming again. He shook his head weakly and turned again at the mouth of the alley, wondering what he should do. The vampires' voices were fading further away, leaving the area. After a time, he went back out to check, and saw that the street had been vacated. The vampires were gone. Slowly, he crept around, sniffing things. He was looking for something, a clue, anything. There had to be something more to learn about that creature with the pen.

He found the object, crumpled and fallen near the flattened rear tire of a metro bus. Straightening it, he saw that it was an old twenty-dollar bill. _Money?_ He looked at it more closely, flipped it over, and held it to his nose, taking in the unique scent from the monster that had dropped it. Once again, there was a uniqueness to the scent. _An individual._ He knew he would recognize it again the next time he smelled it.

At first he wasn't sure the twenty was anything important. Maybe it hadn't come from the same vampire with the pen. Then he noticed there were also what appeared to be some light pencil scratchings all along the border around it. He couldn't make out any meaning. The markings seemed to be just scribbles. Was that all? Just scribbling? And to think he had nearly come unglued, believing that vampire was actually writing! It was enough to make him laugh. But he was too tired. Relief spread over him like rain on dry earth.

Jeremy nearly discarded the bill, thinking he at least had a scent to follow later, but on a whim dropped it into his own pocket. It might be interesting to review the smell. He wondered if Judy could detect anything different about it.

Clutching sword hilt to gut for a moment, he turned to go. The pain of hunger was coming in waves and he caught himself staggering. He noted that his strength had waned after the events of the night. If he were to be discovered now, it would be difficult to flee. That was bad. On the other hand, if he went back to the cell now, he felt like he could at least finally get to sleep. The idea was like a warm, cozy blanket falling over him, in spite of his cravings for food.

Shivering, he turned down the street in the way he had come and began dragging home. The tip of his sword skidded along behind over the asphalt. It was too much effort to lift it any higher. And he would have to hide the thing from Judy, too.

An idea began working its way into his mind as he went, something he could never have thought of earlier. After all, he had been flying, then. All that energy to work off. _Emergency Garage One. _It wasn't too far out of his way. And the vampires had gone in another direction. This definitely qualified as an emergency. _So,_ w_hy not?_

Jeremy turned at the corner and went several blocks to the parking garage where he kept his vehicles in storage. Upstairs, he removed charger cables and climbed into the Camaro. It was the fastest thing he had up there. He had dated girls with this thing. _Sylvia._ A long time ago._ Don't. Please don't start thinking about that._

"Letsss just hooope I can stilll drive," he said, grating out the words as carefully as he could, trying to keep his mind on track. He turned the key in the ignition and the engine came to life, shivering with power. He gunned the accelerator a few times. How could he have forgotten this pleasure? The vibration and purr of the motor brought back that old sense of security and power again. He pressed on the clutch and shifted into gear. This ride would make a short trip of an otherwise arduous journey. Trying not to slump in the seat, he pulled the goggles out of his hip pocket and situated them again on his face.

Tires spun, leaving rubber on concrete behind him as he zipped down the ramp for the street. He didn't use the headlights. Outside, nocturnal creatures of the animal kingdom looked up and chattered to one another from the trees. It had been a long time since an automobile had been heard at this hour.

A curious, waddling skunk_—_too slow to get away_—_turned at the last moment and gave him a good spray as he sped by_. Ahhh, the good old city night life again._ Somehow, it wasn't exactly the way he had remembered. Jeremy made the rest of the trip, gagging and choking. He would leave the car a couple of blocks from the lab and hope none of the scent stayed with him.


	21. Chapter 21 Will

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

_"Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely nil. They give us, now and then, some of those luxurious sterile emotions that have a certain charm for the weak... They are simply cheques that men draw on a bank where they have no account." - Oscar Wilde_

**Will**

The Manhattan skyline was barely visible in the early hours of the morning, but from the roof of the old hospital Jeremy could see dark shapes of the skyscrapers across the water. Hulking black tombstones in a graveyard of giants. No flicker of light there anymore. Memorials of doom.

The dawn was coming soon, the sky slowly warming to a dull glow along the horizon. He inhaled the crisp air and listened to the empty city. It was peaceful and still up here. But it was a longing for neither peace nor solitude that had driven him to climb to the roof. No, his longing was a craving for nourishment.

Jeremy crawled back to the edge and looked down the way he had come. Uneasily, he peered back over the parapet. Seven stories, the building was large enough to stand out in this particular neighborhood of Long Island City, but its brick and stone ledges had enough toe and hand-holds to make climbing a simple matter—for any healthy person with a will to do so, that was. He, on the other hand, had barely made it.

Wheezing now, Jeremy spun back from the ledge and leaned dizzily against the parapet. At any moment, he was sure, his lungs would fold in on themselves. The burning, gnawing hunger had spread through his entire body. During the climb, every few seconds a muscle spasm had gripped him and forced him nearly to tears. He had used the building itself to rub the ache until his muscles had loosened enough to let him go further. Finally he had pulled himself over the top.

The moment of triumph was short lived. He still had to get back inside. Coming home to the building had been simple enough with the Camaro, but finding the doors and windows locked securely was something he had not expected. _Stupid, stupid._ He should have tested that door before he'd let it close behind him when he left the building in the first place.

Well, no use sitting around crying. He made himself stand up, then hobbled to the first door he saw. Putting a hand on the knob he tried turning it. The door was locked and secured from the other side. As expected.

Next, he found a second door, but it too was locked. Had he gone through all the effort to come up here for nothing? _Probably._ The survivors had taken every precaution against an invasion from vampires. They had even used their resources and manpower to board every window. The entire building was like a safe.

Finally he noticed a large vent. It had a heavy steel grating bolted to it, but there was an adjustable wrench lying nearby. Once again, no one ever expected a vampire to use tools. Excitedly, he grabbed the wrench and fitted it to the first nut. It didn't budge. The thing was rusted on. He tried another, but they were all rusted. Even when he strained with all his might, there was nothing he could do.

In frustration, he turned to heave the wrench from the building, but a sudden muscle spasm took hold of him at his back, right between the shoulder blades. Jeremy collapsed to the rooftop, the wrench falling uselessly through his clawing fingers. Writhing, he fought through the episode.

He lay there when it was over, exhausted, staring up at the brightening sky. Awareness of the end was dawning on him. Judy would awaken and find his cell empty. She would discover the cracked rear panel and assume he was gone for good. There'd be no reason to check the roof. And he didn't have the strength to climb back down without falling to his death in one last spasm of meaninglessness. His struggle for survival would be over, the end to all the madness. Somehow, though, he had never expected it to end like this.

"If only," he gasped, "Ifff only, I haad stayed..."

His ear muscles suddenly pricked up to the sound of a small scuffing noise coming from somewhere else on the roof. He raised his chin and peered between his feet to see a large black bird perched on the parapet only a few feet away, studying him. It bent down and appeared to sharpen its beak on the wall and then cocked its head sideways and looked at him again.

This was an invasion of privacy if he'd ever seen one. Indignation swept over him. No one should be around to watch him die. He struggled into a sitting position, his hands behind him for support.

"Gettt out of heeere!" he said weakly, and he waved one of his hands.

The bird just sat there.

Jeremy rolled his eyes and grimaced. The bird would have to force him to do this. He would eat the thing raw. He turned painfully on his side and with great effort, heaved himself to his feet.

He looked back at the bird in time to see it flap away, its strong black wings carrying it off on the wind high above the city. A survivor. The immortal spirit of freedom, immune to all ill the earth could throw its way. A single black feather careened back to him on a pocket of air and he instinctively caught it in his hand.

Unsteadily, he looked at the feather, not sure what to make of it. He shielded his eyes against the growing glow on the horizon and tried to follow the bird's flight, but it was gone. Again, the sound of a scuffing came to him and his eyes searched the parapet for another bird. But, no. He was alone on the rooftop.

His eyes fell upon the shiny knob of the second door he had tried. He blinked. Had it just turned? He staggered toward it, confused, until he stood there looking down at the knob. Yes, it was slowly turning! a quarter turn one way, and then a quarter turn back. Someone was on the other side of that door. He could now hear the scuffling noises coming from within.

He took hold of the knob, knowing he had tried it earlier, thinking it would not turn now. In the throes of his pain, he was now imagining things, he had to be! He turned the knob and the door popped open.

His gaze fell on the startled face of a small girl with stringy blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. She stared up at him and held out her hands. There was a small black box in one of them with a green digital screen on its face, showing a view from the rooftop. He turned and looked. A camera was indeed perched silently under the awning above the first door. A motion detector was fixed just below the camera. He turned back to Victoria. She looked good enough to eat.

* * *

Judy awakened late, surprised at herself for sleeping in. She pulled an aching arm from behind her back where it had gotten tangled in leather and bedding. Groaning, she sat up holding her shoulder and kicked her combat boots and legs over the side of the bed. Her neck was stiff, too. This is what came of going to bed worried. She glanced over at Victoria's nook and suddenly all other thoughts disappeared. The child was not there.

"Victoria!"

She looked for the girl in the kitchen and saw the mess near the blender. Someone had been in here making things. A dark red powder covered the countertop, with herbs sprinkled everywhere. A bottle of Evian water was tipped over, having spilled some of its contents onto the floor. Small fingertips had dragged themselves through the red powder and off the edge of the counter. Judy ran from the kitchen, calling the girl's name.

She found them in the cell room. Victoria was holding the bottle up so that Jeremy could sip at it through the slot in the Plexiglas cell. They both looked up innocently as she entered. But there was no second guessing Jeremy. He looked like hell.

Calming herself, she continued walking toward her daughter and took the bottle from the girl.

"Victoria, thanks for taking charge. Now I need you to go and clean up in the kitchen. Okay, Honey."

"Okay, Mama." The girl got down off of the chair she'd been standing on next to the cell and skipped out of the room.

Judy looked at Jeremy. He was trembling, still trying to suck at the empty bottle.

"It's myyy thirrrd one thisss morrrning, ccan you beeelieve it?" he said. "Sheee's quite the liiittle hostess." His speech and voice had gotten worse in the night. Of course. But it wasn't because the pills she'd given him didn't work.

Judy set the bottle aside and stared at him. His face looked drained of some color. Still, he wasn't as bad as she would have expected after seeing the antics he had been doing in front of the monitors all night. Maybe Victoria's food was helping. She turned and paced in front of the cell, searching for how he'd managed to get out.

"Loooks liike you've beennn up a whiiile," he said, nodding at her coat and boots. The Uzi had bulged from the coat into plain sight and she made no attempt to conceal it.

She didn't look back at him. Her eyes were studying the pile of iron in the corner of the cell. There was a suspicious looking make-shift device that he'd bolted together and folded at the middle. It appeared to be made from the two longest sides of the table. That was when she noticed the hairline fracture at the rear corner of the cell. She stared at it for a while and realized that must have been his escape route. The man could get out at any time, right now.

He was sitting there on the floor as usual, trying to look casual. He had the goggles set so black that she couldn't see his eyes at all. He attempted a grin when she looked at him, but she could see his shoulders shaking.

Why was he back? That was the question, not: "How did he get back into the building?" He obviously was resourceful, but _why_ had he come back to them? It made no sense. As much as she knew about the virus, once an infected person gave into the drive to release pent up energy, the body chemistry changed drastically. It took over their minds until they could no longer think rationally. They only truly became vampires after exercising. But here he was, smirking back at her. An ironic twist of an enigma, wrapped in a paradox, thinking he was fooling her. How could he be sitting there even caring about trying to fool her?

Finally she pulled up a chair, removed the Uzi from its holster, checked the safety and set it on a small desk beside her. She looked at Jeremy and he glanced at the submachine gun and then back to her. The smile was frozen on his face. She could still read him like a book, that much hadn't changed. _What's the gun for?_ he was thinking.

"That," she said, "is just a precaution." She crossed one leg over the other and put both her hands on the top knee. "We…" she began, and she leaned forward so that he was sure not miss the sobriety of the moment. She hoped he could see it written all over her face. "…need to talk, Mister."


	22. Chapter 22 Biology

**Notes: **I'd been wanting to do a summary of the science behind the movie's version of the vampires in _I Am Legend. _This chapter is an attempt at part of that, plus some ideas of my own. And I'll try to work in more in coming chapters, here and there. I am not a scientist, but I thought an explanation for certain ideas behind this particular fanfiction would be interesting. If you would like to discuss more of the science involved in the modern vampire theories, let's start a new forum and do it. Just let me know in your review. Thanks for reading! And a specially warm thanks to those that have offered feedback so far. We've still got some chapters to go! –**W.B. **

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville and Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

"_Information is not knowledge" –Albert Einstein __(1879-1955)_

**Biology**

The discussion with Judy hadn't gone exactly the way Jeremy had hoped, but at least she hadn't mentioned his escape, yet. He wondered if she had figured it out or not. Up until just a few minutes ago, Judy had been sitting there, talking to him through the Plexiglas with her Uzi resting at a handy distance, lecturing him on the absolute necessity of his balance of nutrition and exercise. That, and taking his meds.

She seemed pretty worked up about it, too, even angling the submachine gun in his general direction at times to underscore the point she was making. "You as a patient, Jeremy, are on precarious ledge, especially now. If you don't remember to take your meds and be sure to have an extra snack or two handy," she had insisted, "you'll go vampire on us—no ifs ands or buts—you _will_ turn into your own worst nightmare. You dig?"

When he hadn't responded immediately, she added, "You ought to believe me, I've been around, and I have seen it at least a hundred times with my own eyes. And…" She had paused again either to slow herself down and take a breath, or to give him a chance to let her words sink in. She patted the Uzi meaningfully, "if that happens…it's _hasta la vista,_ Baby."

The Terminator phrasing hadn't been lost on him. Okay, whether she would actually waste him or just leave him to fend for himself, he wasn't sure, but either way it was clear the woman was serious. She meant whatever she meant!

Well, she was out of the room now. Out of view. He hoped she was coming back. He wasn't sure, but the idea kept coming to him that she knew more about his escapade last night than she was letting on. She might just be mad enough to take off and leave him now. Jeremy searched his own heart and realized he needed that woman. Not just her child. He needed them both. They were all he had. As far as he knew, the two of them could be the only living healthy people left in the world. And—it was a weird feeling to be having—but even though he'd only just met them it seemed like they could be a kind of a second chance at the family he had failed at with Sylvia and Ben. If there was any hope for him, that is.

Judy seemed to know what she was talking about. That much, she had sold him on. In her own words, she had seen hundreds of cases. Yet here she was, helping him. She wouldn't do that if she didn't have some spark of hope for him, would she?

Swallowing hard now, and having recovered enough from the physical misery he'd brought on himself last night, he was now able to reflect on his misdeeds. He'd made plenty of mistakes, and not just the one from last night. Yes, good old human guilt was gushing over him.

He clasped his hands together, prayer fashion. _If she's willing to work with me, _he thought,_ then I've got something worth living for again. It may kill me, I don't care, but I've got to get serious about her advice, no matter what. It is time to start trusting again!_ He didn't know what he was saying, but he was saying it! The feeling of resolve entering his heart now was something he'd somehow managed to do without for much too long. Like a long lost friend, it came back, settling in. It felt good, even if resolve in itself could never really take the guilt away…

* * *

Judy studied the results of her lab work on Jeremy's blood, comparing the electron microscope pictures with the ones on file for the Krippin virus. She was not a virologist or even a doctor, and she had only been studying these things since shortly after the fallout of the plague began, but there did seem to be some differences apparent even to her.

Her mind went back over the things she had learned from the doctors she had aided while helping with the early plague victims. They had explained as many things to her as they could think to tell her—about their equipment and their science. They hadn't had much time, but with her alert mind she had absorbed everything she could. And, having recognized an apt pupil they had poured as much into her as they could. Now, her eyes wandered from the slides and up to the tiled ceiling. Were her mentors looking down on her from above? She wondered if they would be as excited as she felt about the possibilities with Jeremy. It was too early to know for sure about him. She would have to wait and see, and try to keep the excitement from her voice.

She had already begun compiling an information packet for him yesterday. It was a summary of everything the scientists had learned about the Krippin virus and plague up to this point, as well as the things they knew of Krippin-vampire needs and behavior. The packet also included specific differences about his body and her own handwritten notes on how his experience might differ from the others because of it.

The packet was her best attempt at informing Jeremy about what to expect and how to handle the changes. Judy hoped he could get this stuff fairly quickly without her having to push him too fast. She would have to remember that he was not her. But then he was not dumb, either.

_He might not even be able to read it._ She frowned, mentally pushing on past the doubt. A regular vampire quickly lost the higher cognitive abilities, like the ability to read and think rationally. _Jeremy is different though._ She would read it _to_ him if necessary, and if he could understand, the knowledge would arm him with understanding of his condition. Like any patient, he would be better equipped to deal with the disease if he knew the importance of staying on his meds and supplements. And, from what she could tell of him already, he wasn't going to like that.

* * *

He was lying on the floor of his cell when she returned. He looked relaxed for a change. That was good. The medication they had given him was doing the trick. He sat up when she approached. Some of the tension in the room seemed to have dissipated while she had been out. Maybe they could talk a little less _vehemently_ now. She took hold of a couple of folding chairs that were leaning against a post near the cell and dragged them both to the door.

"Hey," he said, waving to her. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to smile. "I'm feeeling a hundred percent bettter, now. And whatever is in thossse pills Victoria gave me seems to be helping my speeech a lot."

"That's exciting, Jeremy." Judy took a deep breath and swiped her key through the card lock and then opened the door of the cell.

Jeremy's eyes went wide. "Heyyy…" he began. He got to his feet as she entered, looking around at the cell and then back at her. He now towered over her, making her feel small.

"Relax," Judy said, "If I didn't know what I was doing I wouldn't be helping at all." She watched the concern turn to doubt on his features_. Jeremy, you are still a handsome man,_ she thought. _Sick, yeah, but so far not terrible on the eyes._ Most of his coloring had returned. He really did not look much different from a healthy person, which was the amazing thing. Especially after all that exercise he had gotten the night before.

"Look," she said aloud to him, sitting on one of the chairs she had pulled in with her, "if you were a danger to me or my daughter now I wouldn't be doing this, but the drugs are working. You're back under control. You've gotten your supplements in time. This is science, okay?"

She closed her eyes. _Judy, get real. You just saw the surveillance videos. He should have fallen over the precipice a dozen times last night, to come dragging in the way he did._ _He should have already gone vampire!_ _Is this science we're dealing with, or a walking, breathing miracle? _Why, _why_ had he pulled through and come home to them?

Jeremy nodded slowly, still looking unsure. She motioned for him to sit in the other chair. He chose the floor again, putting his back against the wall and watching her, his right hand gripped the seat of the other chair. The fear was still apparent on his face.

That loss of self control he had experienced in front of them only a few hours before had really done a number on the man. But even there, she was sure of her first assessment. She had seen it in his eyes, the pleading look of one who wanted to be saved from the forces within himself. Well, he was not out of the woods yet, but together they had made a good start with the supplements. Now if she could just get him to understand his need for adopting the new system of self control.

"I'm really glad your voice is back," she began. "It sounds lovely. So, come on, we'll kill two birds with one stone. Let's see if you can still read out loud."

Jeremy looked at the packet in her hand as she began to open it. He swallowed and reluctantly reached for it. "What maakes you think that I _ever_ knew how to reead in the first place?"

"Oh, come now. A smart lad like you?" Judy laughed and noticed he seemed to relax a little more because of the banter. She was thankful for that. To her, it felt like she was really straining here. "We'll just try it and test out your new vocal chords as well."

He reached into the packet and pulled out the first notebook. It happened to be on virology.

_Ooh, tough choice, though a _g_ood place to begin, _Judy thought_._ Jeremy looked quizzically up at her but she said nothing.

He opened the notebook and cleared his throat. "So…this is all about the little bug that makes us monsters tick, huh?"

"Aha, I knew you could read," she said, "Now get busy. Let's hear you."

He started out, plowing through the stuff she'd collected. It was written in layman's terms but she listened to him and could see he was struggling. His eyebrows furled into a knot and he finally looked up from the pages at her. "I was nevvver a good student," he admitted.

"That's okay."

"Well, what I don't get is why theyyy would ever have injected a virus into a person in the firrst place. I never diiid get that. It seeemed like a bad idea from thhhe start."

_Okay._ Judy could explain and summarize. "Well, the Krippin cure was intended for cancer. It had potential for other things, too, but cancer was Dr. Krippin's main target."

Jeremy nodded and Judy got up and reached for the notebook. He handed it back to her. She continued, looking through the notes to guide her.

"To begin with, a person's immune system depends a good deal on the body's ability to detect foreign matter. Cancer is able to exist and spread in the body because it somehow tricks the immune system into thinking it belongs. But this strength also turns out to be the 'Achilles heel' of cancer, if you will, in the case of a virus."

Judy watched him while she spoke and saw him nodding. Good, he was following along so far. "Basically, a virus is a bit of nucleic acid—either RNA or DNA—encapsulated in a kind of 'shell,' for lack of a better term. It is actually a little strip of genetic coding that has somehow escaped control of the immune system somewhere in nature's history. Or, at least that's one theory.

"Most viruses are easily detected by the immune system, but around cancer cells that detection process is subdued, providing the perfect environment for a virus to hide as well. Cancer keeps the t-cells away for some reason, but that allows the virus to get in and infect the cancer cells, and to destroy them."

"In fact, scientists were already using viruses to fight cancer, years before the Krippin cure was developed. Flu bugs, cow pox. You name it, they tried it. Early work mostly depended on the immune system eventually kicking in and recognizing the virus, once the cancer was eliminated. It was effective, sometimes.

"Of course, they wanted to improve the system, so when gene mapping technology advanced enough, they spliced-on genetic scripting borrowed from human cells known to be strongly resistant to cancer. They sculpted the Krippin cure so that the virus would write the new scripting into a patient's cells, and they also changed the shell structure of the virus by adding a special coating to make it more invisible to the immune system in the first place."

Jeremy got a quizzical look on his face again and Judy immediately guessed she was jumping ahead too much. "What's wrong?"

"Okayy." Jeremy sat away from the wall and poked an index finger into his open palm. "So…a virus chaanges a person's DNA? Is that what you're tellling me? And the Krippin cure was supposed to…to…what? make the body resist cancer? Or killl the cancer, or which?" Jeremy was perking up, raising his shoulders, no longer slumping against the wall. As time went on, his speech was also improving.

"Whoa, I'm getting there," she said. "In short, the cure was supposed to strengthen the body by first defeating the cancer cells. So, okay. A normal virus typically destroys the cell it invades by forcing it to factory-produce so many copies of the virus that the cell ends up bursting open. Goodbye cancer…or, whatever other cells it happens to get into. Then those virus copies spread to other cells and the process starts again, but this time in hundreds of cells at the same time.

"The beauty of the Krippin cure was that it came in two parts. The first phase targeted cancer cells to use them to make copies, but the second phase made repairs to damaged cells, instead of bursting them. The ex-cancerous cells were returned, not just to health, but were left better off than before the cancer.

Judy leafed through the pages of the notebook. They were getting to the good stuff. "This next part was a break-through in modern virology. The Krippin cure was designed to suppress certain aspects of itself until a later generation of copies in which those features would manifest and the immune system could detect it. It was a built in safe guard."

Jeremy raised a hand.

"Yes?"

"You're talking awfully faast," he said. He put his hand down and a sly smile tugged across his lips. "But I like it, please continue."

"Okay." She laughed and looked at her notes. It was nice she didn't have to keep up the scolding attitude like before. He was responding well. "It's all in here. Do you want to try reading it on your own?"

Jeremy frowned and stared at the notebook in her hand. "Yeah," he said but made no attempt to reach for it. "…I _do_ want to see if my mind is sharp enough to process this stuff by reading. I feel like I'm so much sharper about everything now, but I still have this energy that needs to be used up. Eeven now, I can feel it surging up inside me. But I've just got one more question for you about this stufff first."

"Shoot."

"Okay, the cure sounnds great." He nodded at his body as if the question should be obvious. "What in the…?" He put a fist to his mouth, paused, and tried again. "What went wrong?"

Judy nodded with him_. Yeah, what in God's green earth went so terribly wrong?_ It was what everyone was still trying to figure out. Everyone—the few—who were still alive.

"It's a theory." she said.

"I'm open to theories, right now. Answers, anything."

"We _know_ that the Krippin cure came into contact with DNA from another virus. That much isn't theory. We also know that this other virus was the one that causes rabies in certain mammals, including man. What we don't know is how that happened. It is possible that it could have happened naturally. It's often how new viruses are created—by two parent viruses exchanging genetic coding, and their resulting copies taking on new characteristics. But…"

"But what? It seems unlikely, or…?" Jeremy was completely into this now. He had gotten up to his knees and was sitting back on his heels. He looked straight and tall, even with his legs folded beneath him.

Judy nodded. "It could have happened that way. Nature. But, I'm afraid it is more likely that our beloved Krippin virus…which wiped out an entire world…was made in a _laboratory_."

The words seemed to dawn on him slowly. His eyebrows knitted together quizzically again and then turned to doubt. He was watching her face, detecting the implications there. It was pretty incredible. That someone would do this.

"You mean," he finally said, "on purrpose? Someone did this on _purpose?"_

It was Judy's turn to shrug. They stared at each other for a while and Jeremy slumped back against the wall, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "Ohhh God," he said.

She didn't have the heart to tell him the full extent of her suspicions. Not only was Krippin virus probably a purposeful "accident," but it was further possible that the continuing mutations she was seeing among the vampires, and now most recently in Jeremy were also the result of someone out there in some laboratory somewhere, still experimenting.

Judy stood up and picked up the back of the chair she had been sitting in. She laid the notebook next to Jeremy on the other chair. "Well, it's spilled milk now. But about that energy you were talking of earlier, maybe if you read this stuff really fast it will do the trick. They say that thinking burns more calories than you'd expect. Just remember to eat as soon as you are hungry."

"Yeah, okay."

She walked out and left the door open.

"Hey!" he said, sitting up. "Am I free to come out of here?"

Judy wasn't looking back. She called behind her, "Bathroom is through this door, down the hall to the right. The, uh, _Maintenance_ door is across the hall from that."

She turned back now before going through the door and saw puzzlement on his face. It was obvious what he was thinking, 'M_aintenance?' Wait…what? _Oh, it was too much fun reading him. "Oh yeah," she said, "you heard right. The Maintenance shop. You'll find some tools and supplies in there for repairing your cell, I think. We may just be needing that thing again real soon. That split down the corner seam seriously compromises our safety around here."

Judy turned and went through the door, not wanting to laugh in his presence. She had seen the shock and sudden realization wash over his face. _"She knowwws."_ It was too much.

She walked to the kitchen to check on Victoria, the hunger in her own body telling her it was past time for their next meal. After that, there would be the planning to do. She didn't know how Jeremy would take this, but she really needed to get a sample from that vampire he had tussled with the other day. She wanted him to be there with her, both for protection, and to help her find the right place. With any luck, they'd get a lead on this mutation thing.

"No," she reminded herself, not with luck. _Only with the Lord's help…_


	23. Chapter 23 Balance

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville and Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

_"In doing your work in the great world, it is a safe plan to follow a rule I once heard on the football field: Don't flinch, don't fall; hit the line hard." –Theodore Roosevelt_

**Balance**

A crack of light under the bathroom door was all that separated him from total darkness, but Jeremy could see perfectly without his goggles. He had been allowed to sleep after Judy's lecture, then awakened, feeling groggy and out of order. He was now standing in the bathroom, gazing unsteadily at himself in the mirror.

Judy's medicine was working to help him stay calm, but the side effects were a bummer. To even turn his head felt like the last fuzzy remnants of a dream_. Maybe none of this is actually real, _he thought_._ But, another glance at himself in the bathroom mirror confirmed otherwise. He could plainly see some of the changes apparent in his body. All fat had melted away, the last reserves depleted because of his indiscretionate exercise the night before. He hadn't had much fat to begin with, but now his muscles rippled beneath tight skin, like sinewy bands of steel. Well there were some benefits to being sick, at least. If only his head would clear.

He was supposed to be in here to take a shower. Jeremy grumbled and sniffed at his skin again. Could the lady really know what she was talking about? She'd actually had the nerve to demand his clothing be turned over to her for burning.

"They stink, Jeremy," she had said, "and quite frankly, so do you."

All of these insults, and right after he'd put on his most penitent attitude and attacked the breakfast of dietary gruel she set before him, too. Not that it was bad tasting, and it definitely re-energized him, but he could see where it might get old in time. He had just been considering how to go about imploring her for some variety in future meal-planning but then Judy had sent him to the shower, requesting that he leave his stripped clothing outside the door.

Jeremy shook his head in disgust. Well, he'd missed his opportunity to barter. He'd already given up the clothes. _Curse this fuzziness!_

An insistent knocking sounded at the door, making him jump. "Hey in there, I've got some fresh clothing for you, what's taking so long?"

He lurched into the shower and scrubbed in pitch blackness until he was sure he must be more than clean. The sound of the water falling in the tiny booth around him and on his skin was not exhilarating like he had remembered it. At least he wasn't expected to use some terrible smelling deodorant soap which would have surely turned his stomach. His senses had become so delicate that anything strong was too much. But he had to admit he did like the soap she'd given him. It was all-natural, made from olive oil. The words "Kiss My Face" were etched into it.

"From now on," Judy had told him, "nothing goes on your skin or in your mouth without my approval first."

Apparently, the average healthy person absorbed more chemicals through their skin every day than through the food they ate. _Strange but factual._ Around here, he was quickly becoming accustomed to receiving, along with the special food and supplements, a good daily dosage of herbal-wisdom. Even little Victoria could spout it off at will, like a geyser of memorized facts. Her mother had indoctrinated her well. Somehow, though, the lectures comforted him. It reminded him of Rex, and even of Sylvia and Ben. It was like family again. In that way, it felt good to be accepted and cared for. Still, there was something about that care of hers that bothered him. Maybe it was nothing, but his mind kept coming back to it. She had left Victoria alone. She must have had her reasons, but what could have been so important? He shook the thoughts away the best he could and continued with business.

An hour later and he was dry, dressed, and busy working on the cell repairs. The fuzziness was beginning to lift. He could feel the energy of breakfast pumping through his system now. Ah, it was good to work with one's hands. It helped to steady his nerves somehow, which also was good. With the clearing of his mind, he was starting to feel a bit jittery. He needed to work off the energy.

He had located some items in the small maintenance shop which he figured would work for mending the Plexiglas corner. Some flat sheets of steel, the kind with the diamond texture on one side for underfoot traction, and some bolts with nuts were all the materials he expected to need. The shop's small brake was for light duty bending, so Jeremy rigged up a larger brake from what was left over from the iron table and used his own strength coupled with the use of a lever again to make a ninety degree bend down the length of one of the flat sheets, textured side inward. The other piece, he cut into two even strips, then set his goggles on full blackness and placed a welding visor over that on his head. A few experimental tries with the shop's small stick welder and he had the bolts fixed to the outside surface of his newly formed angled sheeting in two rows. He drilled holes to match the bolts in the other two flat pieces and used a grinder to smooth all the rough edges. Finally, it was just a matter of cutting slots in the Plexiglas so that the three steel pieces could be bolted to it, sandwiching and reinforcing the broken corner. It would be good as new, maybe even stronger.

Victoria was waiting for him with Rex's journal as he emerged from the shop carrying his steel pieces. She hadn't liked the loud noises of the grinder and other machinery inside. Frankly, neither had he, but it wasn't that they were too loud for him; with the clearing of his head, the noises were quickly becoming irritating to his nerves.

Judy was upstairs somewhere else in the building. It amazed him how trusting the woman could be. It bothered him, too.

The girl followed him into the cell room and carefully climbed to the top of a nearby shop stool as he worked. Somehow she managed to bring Rex's journal along up there. She had been alternately lecturing him on the virtues of certain garden herbs and working on sounding out words. This, she continued, taking up from where they had left off.

Five minutes later, she was still going strong.

"…and it makes you healthy and 'resistant,' and it makes you so you can't get sick, either, from when bad people breathe on you."

Rex had a poem in his book on the combined subject of vampires and garlic, of all things. Jeremy was amazed at how many words Victoria could already read on her own, being not yet five, but her lecture part of the deal was getting annoying.

"Is that so?" He threw aside the wrench he was using and began tightening the nuts with his fingers. He could spin them more quickly this way.

"Unh-hunh, and it makes your breath stinky, and it tastes like…_nasty_." She made a face and looked back down at the book in her lap.

Her cheerful voice should have been less irritating. He caught himself in time before getting agitated enough to start shouting. No use hurting the girl's feelings. But something had to change, and quick.

"Hey, Victoria," he said quietly. He gave a final twist to the last nut. "Can I see that book?"

"I thought you'd never ask," the tiny girl said and struggled on the stool to get her feet to the ground. She carried the book to him. He had to smile at her sincerity as he took it off her hands.

"Before I reead this, let me ask you about something" he said.

"What's that, My Dear?" She was consistent in her cheery mood.

"You knoww when I first found you? In that room?"

The girl rolled her eyes to her right, remembering. "Oh, at that one place?"

"Yeah, at the apartment wherrre your mama left you?"

"Yes, My Dear."

"Um…" he began. He really hadn't thought it through, how to ask Victoria, but he would try. "Did your mama ever explain whyyy she was gone so long?"

"Oh, she had an emergency."

"Did shhhe say what kind of emergency?"

"Nope. Just, she was really sorry, and she was so happy because you came and took care of me. Mama tries really hard to keep us safe. I'm glad we have you to make us safe. You're my best friend, Jeremy."

Ahh. Some of the tension in his nerves oozed away when she said that. He suddenly felt like hugging the child to himself. Water pooled in his eyes, stinging and fogging up his goggles. He pulled them back for a second and wiped away the tears. _God are you still up there, after all? Do you see this precious child?_

"You're myyy best friend, too," he said, giving into the urge and grabbing Victoria in an embrace. "You and your mom arrre all I've got in this whole world."

It was easy to be sappy around a five year old. She wouldn't judge or pull away.

"Noww," he said, finally releasing her and composing himself. "Let's see this book."

* * *

Judy was in the control room studying a large map of the city which she had laid out flat on a table. Surveillance footage from the night before was still fresh in her mind, and she had pin-pointed the areas where Jeremy's image had appeared on camera. She was wondering what it felt like to fly.

The vampires were difficult to study in their natural habitat. It would be like begging for a horrible death. But then, Jeremy had been out there with them, and they had ignored his presence. She had seen it herself. There had been a few more locations where he appeared; One of the network security cams had captured the man only a few car lengths from the pack. If they were to strap a camera to him, there was so much they could learn about vampire behavior. A lot of false notions could be vanquished, and perhaps more of the healthy survivors would begin agreeing with her methods.

_Fascinating thought, Judy, but let's get back to the goal._

Jeremy. Now, he was a different case altogether. He possessed the gene to resist KV, but then he had become infected with this new strain. That could mean some interesting possibilities. She had to know more, and it would have to start by finding out more about the vampire that had attacked and breathed on him. Could it be possible to retrace the origins of Jeremy's strain?

Would Jeremy be willing to take her back to the scene of the attack? From what he'd told her of his history, she had noticed a pattern in his decision making: He resisted change, but when enough was enough he would leave a place, vowing never to return. He was stubborn in his own way.

It was going to be tricky. But if she could not convince him to take her there himself, she would go it alone. This was a matter that needed to be explored, her sense of mission demanded it. Somehow, the world had to be made a safe place again. Not just for her child, but for the entire remnant that had been spared from death, both infected and healthy.

Again, Jeremy. The idea that he might be key to the solution was growing on her. God surely had a purpose in leaving him on earth, for bringing them together at this time, and in the remarkable way and timing that He had!

Judy had to believe in that. Her own life mission was to save as many people as she could from death by the virus. That meant preserving them, only to eventually lose every one to becoming vampire—more creatures to hide from, more monsters to hunt the healthy, to endanger their children. To Judy, it was a necessary evil.

People were fairly evenly divided on the subject. About fifty percent of the healthy survivors she knew who were actively dealing with the vampires in one way or another agreed with her. That was because nearly everyone had a friend or relative out there who had gone bad. They wanted to see their loved ones fixed. Judy and her friends were in that group, working under the firm conviction that eventually a cure would be found, and that the sick could be brought back to health. They killed only in self defense and when it was necessary in order to save lives.

The other half said she was creating monsters. She couldn't blame them. It was true, in a way. But those were also the people usually in favor of exterminating the Infected. They did not believe a cure would be found. They said it was a precarious situation she and her friends were creating by treating the sick.

The two opposing views made for some volatile relationships among the survivors. At times it could be downright dangerous. It was too bad people couldn't get together in their plan of action, but neither side seemed willing to compromise. And so far, nothing had happened to tip the balance of opinion in one direction or another. Until she'd met Jeremy, she had guessed nothing could. And she had been too busy to think much about public relations. Now things had changed a little.

Judy glanced at her watch. It was already afternoon and there wouldn't be time today to go hunting up new facts. But come tomorrow, they would have to do something to learn more. And Jeremy was the key, whether he wanted to be or not.


	24. Chapter 24 Symbols

_**Notes: 10-31-2008, I made a change in the text after a helpful pointer from Aiedeen. Where Jeremy goes outside in the daylight, his skin is not burned and I've explained why briefly. Thanks Aiedeen!**_

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville and Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

"_A young man who wishes to remain a sound atheist cannot be too careful of his reading." _

–_C.S. Lewis_

**Symbols**

Jeremy picked up Rex's journal and studied its cover. It was leather bound and well worn, a book that someone had hand-made years ago. He flipped it open and skimmed through the pages. Rex had apparently been using it as a catch-all for journaling, planning, and poetry.

"What does this say?" said Victoria as the pages fell open to a certain place. She was pointing at an entry about a third of the way in. The poem was next to a hand-sketched figure of a man on horseback and clad only in a loin cloth. There were two more sketches nearby surrounding the poem—one pictured some mangy looking wolves, and the third drawing was of a grassy hill that showed just the heads of several horses peering over the top, like periscopes on the prairie. Jeremy hadn't known Rex was such an artist, too. The drawings looked pretty real.

He began to read the words aloud for the little girl. _"The Peace Chief, by Rex A._

_"Hoka-hey," the Old Man said._

_It was late in the afternoon._

_The wild Horses ranged freely nearby,_

_watching warily from atop a hill._

_There were Wolves in the grasses._

_The Old Man said, "Hetchetoo, Hwo?"_

_But Wolves were lurking_

_and so the Horses ran on._

_They had no tolerance for taming,_

_with danger on the wind._

_Young Men chased away the Wolves_

_and went in search of Horses._

_Old Man, he simply cut cords, sifted_

_hay into troughs and waited._

_It was already evening when_

_the Young Men returned, exhausted._

_Old Man met them on horseback_

_"Hetchetoo yell low," he said._

It was a funny poem. Jeremy had no clue what it was about, with the strange words. Was the old man sneezing when he said _hetchetu_? However, for some reason Jeremy had been able to read it aloud without any speech problems. Victoria was quiet for a time and he wondered what she was thinking.

"Are those wolves?" she asked, pointing to the sketch with the wolves watching in the tall grass.

"Yeaahh."

"Oh, I don't like them. They look _bad_, like people that try to get us."

Jeremy considered this. There were infected dogs out there and probably wolves, too, but the girl was making a jump from wolves all the way to vampires, applying the story to her own life in a way that she could understand. It seemed like an odd interpretation for a five year old. _Or, perceptive._ Curiosity surged within him, and for once the jitters of his nerves were completely forgotten.

"Well," said Jeremy, "What are the horrrses like, then?"

"Horses? These are sick. See? They are lying down and watching." She carefully placed her finger lightly on the ink drawing of the horses looking over the hill. "They have to run from the bad ones, and hide. They think they have to hide from everyone, too."

This blew Jeremy away. He wasn't expecting anything like this when he'd begun reading to the girl. _Wow, okay, so the horses are sick (like infected people?), not 'survivors' but…infected, sick people!_ From the mouth of a babe, the interpretation of the poem was taking on prophetic proportions. He began to wonder what else Rex had in this book.

"And, who would you say this old man is?"

Victoria looked up at him like he was being funny. "That isn't an old man," she said, "that is my Mama. She knows how to help the sick ones. She fed them and they came so she could ride."

Jeremy couldn't see the similarity. Yeah, the man on horseback had long hair, but he was definitely a man in every other visible way. _The girl is teasing me, _he thought. Jeremy leaned to the side so he could study Victoria's face. She nodded sincerely, smiling back at him only when he smiled at her. So she wasn't teasing.

He wanted to ask one more thing. _Who are the young men_? But the moment of intrigue was broken as Judy came into the room carrying some papers. She stood back and admired Jeremy's repair work.

"Looks alright to me," she said. "Not that we have to use it right away, but I thought it would be good to have it ready just in case of a next time. Or if someone else ever needed to use this place again."

She turned to Jeremy. "Here's the recipe for the food I've been giving you. It's got a break-down on the different ingredients and what they are supposed to do for you." She handed him the papers. "Calcium and iron are pretty important. You can get them from different sources. I've got stars next to all the essential items there with alternative sources in case you couldn't find, say…beet root powder, for example."

He took the papers and pretended to look them over.

Judy unwadded another piece of paper. It looked familiar. She held it up. "I found this in your old jeans," she said, "right before I burned them." Her eyes twinkled like she was making fun of him. "You saving up for a rainy day or something?"

"Hey!" said Jeremy, reaching for the old twenty-dollar bill. He'd forgotten about leaving it in his jeans. "Yoou didn't really have to burrrn anything, you know?"

He started to fold all the papers together. He was wearing the new brown Carhartt work jeans she had given him. They had lots of pockets. Judy had declared that he needed some clothing that would hold up better than denim. But she reached out and restrained his hand as he began to stuff the papers into a front pocket.

"Jeremy, I don't mind if you want to keep the recipe in your pocket; it would be good if you have it on you, should we ever get separated. You can eat anything listed there and know what it will do for you. But I would rather you tried memorizing it first if you can. Just in case."

"Juuudy," he started. How could he explain. He couldn't sit still long enough right now to memorize anything. Reading poems with Victoria was one thing, it had captured his imagination and time had drifted by, but this idea of studying sounded more like drudgery. And he just couldn't bear the idea of staying still anymore to read right now. "I just have too muuch energy. I have to dooo something."

Judy hesitated, looking at her watch. She reached into her pocket. "That reminds me," she said, taking out a plastic medicine bottle. "Your pills. Take three every two hours."

Jeremy looked askance at the medicine. Yeah, it helped to calm his nerves which was necessary; he remembered the moments in the martial arts studio and the raging voices of hunger and pain. But he didn't much care for the side-effects, how they left him feeling foggy afterward. His mind was capable of more clarity now than ever before, but the drugs were hampering that.

The woman would be determined, however. He watched her turning sideways to him, taking up what could be a combative stance. He knew she would always stare him down on the issue of health and safety. _Well, it is better than the alternative,_ he thought, his hand trembling slightly ashe accepted the bottle.

"Isn't there something elssse I can do in the meantime?" he asked. "Right now, before this stuff kicks in?"

Judy bit her lip and hesitated. Was she actually showing a weakness? If so, he had not expected it. He immediately guessed what the issue might be. With all of her naturalism, the synthetic drugs were not really rooted in her belief system. She couldn't possibly enjoy seeing him drugged.

"You're right," she said finally, "In a tight situation, you may not be able to find medication. The food itself actually provides natural balancing properties that your body can assimilate without the use of drugs. Besides, with the self control you've demonstrated (while properly nourished, of course) you should be working on learning to balance energy output with diet." She paused and looked at him. "You should know, however, this has never been tried successfully before." She nearly snatched the bottle again from his hands but restrained herself and told him to put it in his pocket "for emergencies."

It was a strange twist to Jeremy, seeing her fluctuate like this. It was like she was caught in a new situation and for once was not sure what was best. He had been impressed from the beginning by her usually steady resolve. There was something up, but he couldn't put a finger on it yet. Maybe it was just the naturalism versus synthetic thing. Who could tell?

They began making plans for an exercise regimen that would allow him to gradually get a better sense of what he was capable of, to know his limitations and when to stop and eat. This was all in theory, she told him, but since his sickness hadn't robbed him of his mind yet—even in spite of the exercise he had gotten the previous night—it was very possible they could keep him nourished and not lose him to the vampire crowd.

"But if it doesn't work, I may have to shoot you."

"Fair enoughhh."

They both laughed. Jeremy did so mostly at the sense of enthusiasm radiating from her. Something was definitely up that she wasn't telling him about.

"You seem to be in a goood mood," he said.

Judy took a deep breath, paused, and let it out. She seemed to be thinking about how to tell him something. "I am in a way," she said. "I have a lot of hope for you, Jeremy. And to be honest I feel like God has put us together for a reason."

Three weeks ago the idea of a caring God who was involved in their lives would have made him laugh out loud. He had never actually stopped believing in God, but after everything that had happened, it just didn't seem like He was still up there. That notion had begun to dissolve when he'd discovered Victoria in that apartment. He still wasn't sure about a loving, caring Creator, but he at least felt more open to hearing about Him again. Jeremy remained silent and just looked at her.

She was quiet for a few moments, chin down, thinking. "What would you say, if I told you I want to go back to that place you were attacked?"

"I would ssay, 'why in the heh-heh-heh would you want to do that?'" He could try to keep the mood light. Talking about God was such a somber subject, it made him nervous. Judy couldn't possibly be serious anyway. There was no reason to endanger themselves again.

"Funny. No, I mean it. I want you to take me there. I need to get a tissue sample from that vampire."

"You are kiddding me. What does this have to doo with God?"

"No, I'm not, and it has everything to do with God putting us together, though you may not see it the way I do just yet." She frowned. "Look, I can understand your not wanting to go. That's completely legit. But I need to go, to get to the bottom of this strain you've contracted. It could be the key to a new treatment for vampires."

She searched his face. "Jeremy, I'll be okay. I can take care of myself. But I have to go; alone, if necessary. Sure, I'd rather you were there with me, but you can stay here. I'll put Victoria in your care. Just tell me where the place is."

Jeremy began to get scared. "Youu'd leave your daughter heere? With me?" This was crazy. "I'm _innnfected_, Judy, in case you forgot. It's one thing to go off aaand leave a child…" His voice ebbed away, suddenly alarmed at himself for what he was saying.

She was looking at him, eyebrows raised. He couldn't finish what had been on his mind, the very idea that she would endanger her child without reason suddenly seemed foolish. She wasn't like that. But this other thing, Judy would actually go and do this, he knew it. She was so trusting. And then he would lose her, too, the same way he had lost everyone else. It would be his fault again, like with Rex. With Sylvia and Ben. And with Jonathon. The thought of losing them was unbearable.

"Whhat if something happens to you? You'd be leaving your daughter with a potential vammpire!" he said. His mind was reaching for ideas. "If I don't tell you, you'll never fiiind it on your own. It's a big city." _And one more thing for good measure:_ "There's no reason to go baack there. Anyway I would never let you go alone."

Judy stared at him. "Fine. We'll talk about it later. I can see you need some exercise right now." She turned and headed for the door. Victoria got down and followed, lugging the heavy book.

"Come on, Jeremy," said Victoria.

They headed outside the building, Victoria and Judy each putting on a lightweight jacket from the hooks by the main entrance. Jeremy followed behind, carefully poking his head out into the sunlight. Judy had assured him earlier that the sun could do him no harm, at least not yet. Proper nourishment had helped. He had not lost enough melanin, even after his exercise in the night, and his clothing would protect most of his body anyway. Even so, he emerged gradually, testing the light on his hands and arms, half expecting to hear the sizzle of flesh.

He finally came out all the way to the sidewalk, pulling his arms into a heavier coat. It was really was starting to get cold out here! Or was that simply the ice in his stomach he was feeling? The conversation with Judy did not feel finished to him. Even though he had made his stand he knew she would have the last word.

The thought of going back to that place scared him now. It wasn't just the idea of the unknown, but the thought of losing these two precious people who had come into his life. Wouldn't it be just like God to take them away from him? And then how could he live with himself?

"Before we head out, by the way, why _was _that twenty in your pocket?" Judy was standing in the street next to the van as he caught up to them.

She might have been intending to tease him about the money again, trying to lighten the mood now, and catch him off guard later. But it was just the opening he needed as well. Maybe he could get her off the idea of going back to that warehouse, use her own tactics against her. Jeremy pulled the bill out and handed it to her.

"I'm glaaad you asked. I found it in the streeet last night," he said seriously. "Judy, I'm pretty sure one of thhhe vampires was drawing on it with a pennncil. I think he dropped it when the rest of the pack nnnearly ran him over…when they were…uh…" He glanced down at little Victoria who positioning herself in the front seat. He couldn't trust her not to be listening intently; the kid was far too smart. "…_feeding_," he said, trying to be as delicate as possible.

Judy took the twenty and studied it with fascination. "Are you sure this was dropped by a vampire? How do you know? Did you see it fall?"

"Didn't haaave to. I can stilll smell his scent on it. That's another thiing. I discovered last night that vampires all haave their own unique scents, like a fingerprint. I caaan smell the differences between them!"

Judy was studying the bill while he talked. She looked at him dubiously when he made the claim, but lifted the bill to her nose. She turned it over and smelled the other side. He could tell by her expression it was just another piece of useless currency to her. So far his ploy wasn't working.

"Where is the drawing?" she asked.

He stepped closer and bent near her shoulder to point out the scribbles around the border. As he did he noticed something else there that he hadn't seen in the street. Looking at the bill again in the daylight he could see there were little scratches dotting the border here and there along with the scribbles. Could this have meaning? The idea that a vampire would purposely use a tool suddenly renewed itself in his mind. Immediately another question came to him: _Could a vampire be capable of communicating with symbols?_ What was going on?

He grabbed the twenty out of her hand again. "Hey, look at this!"

"What?"

"It's a mmap! This is a city block." It was all coming to him. "Loook. These little jots here each mean 'one' of something. Like, 'one vammpire', maybe." He held the bill closer instead of letting her see. "Yeah, and this must be their movement, this scribble heeere."

"Let me see that," said Judy. She snatched the twenty from him and held it to the light. She shook her head. "I don't see it. How do you get all of this? Those could be just random dots."

Something ugly within Jeremy welled up: _Don't take my money!_ It was okay for him to take the bill from her hand, but not the other way around. His body was tensing, voicing objections to the increasing sensitivity of his nerves. Time was wearing on, the previous dose of medication thinning, and still his pool of energy was growing. He stifled the voice, considered the medicine bottle in his pocket for a second, then forced himself back to the discovery at hand.

It was incredible to him that she couldn't see the meaning. It was so plain now. Judy handed the bill back to him and he took it greedily. He was already counting the dashes and trying to replay the scenes from the night before in his mind. How many vampires had there been out there in the street?

He thought of something to convince Judy. "Okay, get this: Why would a vampire be using a pennncil and paper in the first place if it didn't mmmean something?" It seemed logical to him. It was strange enough the monster even had that pencil. There must have been a purpose.

Judy faced him. "Jeremy, we see this kind of thing all the time. We even have a name for it. Do you want to hear?"

No, _he_ wanted to _show_ her. Why couldn't she see? He continued looking at the bill. "Surrre," he said.

"_Automaticity_."

"What's that?"

"Automaticity. It is a rote muscle memory, in this case a fairly complex one. We see it in both the healthy and the Infected. Simply put, if a person practices a certain habit all of his life, it doesn't necessarily go away just because he goes vampire. Peopledevelop muscle memory actions throughout life, things they do until it becomes reflex—no mental concentration required. If they become a vampire and something familiar falls into their hands, they are likely to perform that action out of reflex. Not always, but often enough."

Jeremy studied her over the top of the twenty. This was actually an interesting tidbit he hadn't been aware of. "You mean," he said, "like writing?"

"Yeah, that's one thing. Or like tying your shoes. That's automaticity. Once you learn, you keep doing it every day of your life, until one day you no longer have to think about how to do it anymore. Your hands just go through the motions. It isn't a sign of higher intelligence. It's just the way God made our bodies so we can do more than one thing at a time. In the case of a vampire, though, it is just a remnant of what they were before." She pointed to the bill. "Although,on that point I diverge slightly from others in opinion. I believe it is a sign of what they could become _again_, if we could just find the key to unlock this Krippin Virus thing. My hope for a cure is that not only we can defeat the virus and fix their bodies, but also restore their minds to health." She paused."And _That, _my dear Jeremy, is why I want to do our little field trip tomorrow."

There, she had snuck it in, another blow infavor of her argument. But something neither of them could have expected had already begun clicking in Jeremy's mind. Judy had said, "tying your shoes." From the past, an echoed memory whispered to him. What was it?

Judy was continuing, smoothing over the rough edges of her underhanded attack. "It is like the way we still see them dressed in their rags. Some are naked, but most of them manage to stay dressed. Sometimes we even see vampires wearing _new_ clothes. That doesn't happen often, but it does. It's just muscle memory. And _that_ is… Say the word with me, Class…"

"Automaticity," said Victoria and Judy in unison, beaming at one another.

Jeremy said it under his breath with them as he buckled Victoria into the front passenger seat. He was thinking about Jonathon, the way that the Nigerian had made his knot-tying look so smooth and practiced. _Like tying one's shoes._ Automatic muscle memory. Maybe it did explain some things he'd seen out there. Green Jacket and his pals. Just muscle memory. Automaticity.

He took another sniff at the bill in his hand. His eyes fell back on the side with the markings. Two of the jots had little crosses through them. Silently he counted to be sure. The scribble beyond them showed a movement of two less jots than the number previously. _Automaticity? No way._

Jeremy tucked the bill back into his pockets. He was trembling now, the energy within him beginning to seep from his pores. He had to get out of here.

"Let'sss go," he said, looking at Judy seated in the van behind the wheel. "You can follow me. And try to keep up."

He had to run. He had to think.


	25. Chapter 25 Curiosity

**_NOTE: I changed the last chapter a little where Jeremy enters the sunlight. Thanks, Aiedeen, for the tip! I enjoy hearing from each one of you that review or send me messages. I'm sorry I don't have as much time as I'd like to post more often. Thank you for sticking with me._**

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville and Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

_"It is a very grave mistake to think that the enjoyment of seeing and searching can be promoted by means of coercion and a sense of duty…_

_"I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious."_

_—Albert Einstein_

**Curiosity**

The next morning, Judy, true to her word, rose early and began carrying supplies outside to the van. She awakened Victoria and made breakfast. The two of them were just finishing when Jeremy came into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" He was looking at her boots and the Uzi she had already strapped on.

"I hope you'll be okay by yourself today, Jeremy. Victoria and I are going to that place where the vampire attacked you."

He began to sweat. "I thought Victoria was staying here with me. You said yesterday…"

"You know, I got to thinking that it would be nice to have some company along. We're just going to go over there, get what we need and come right back. Right, Victoria? It will be okay, Jeremy."

He frowned. "Ohh, I get it, you think Victoria is going to reeemember how to get there. I don't think sso. She's a smart girl, but Queens is a big area and it has been several days."

Judy wiped her mouth, got up, and went to her leather jacket that was draped across the back of another chair at the table. "Actually, I forgot to tell you last night, I already know where that place is. We…uh…have the exact address right here."

She pulled a fragment of white cardboard from the pocket of the jacket and showed it to him. It was a piece torn from one of the temporary packaging shrouds that went around each window he'd gotten from the warehouse. It had the window factory's address printed on it.

"The windows are still in the van. Remember?"

"Ohhh." He felt utterly ruined.

"Are you about ready, Honey?" Judy started to put on the coat. She flicked her long hair to keep it out of the back of the jacket.

Victoria put down her glass of orange juice, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Mama, isn't Jeremy going, too?" She got down from her chair, ran to him and hugged his legs.

Jeremy stared at Judy, saw her try to conceal a smirk. "Nicely playyed," he said.

"How about some breakfast, first, huh?" Judy said. The hard heels of her combat boots clacked across the tile on her way to the fridge. She already had several of his meals prepared for the journey.

* * *

At Jeremy's insistence, they stopped by the Camaro for him to retrieve his sword. The skunk scent was still fairly strong around the car, but he held his breath, dove in and got what he was looking for. Next they drove to his townhouse to check on things and to unload the windows. He had remembered the lead sheeting left on the dock at the warehouse and wanted the extra room in the van for hauling it.

It had been some time since he'd been at the townhouse, but everything seemed to be in order. He checked the oil level in the generator and made sure to expend some extra energy carrying all of the windows quickly up to a spare bedroom by himself. Then they were ready to go again.

Judy drove. Jeremy was too nervous. He rolled down the window and stuck his head outside to feel the wind on his face and smell the morning air. He reminded himself of Rex, except that it was difficult to face the sun and smile.

Judy kept looking over at him, watching him as they drove. He could see her out of the corner of his eye, studying him.

"I'm still curious why you'd want a sword and not one of your rifles," she said.

"I nevver had much luck with guns," said Jeremy pulling his head back in. "An old friennd used to tell me the smaller caliber weapons weren't effective anyway. With vampiiires you've usually got a very shhort time to leave a wound large enough that they can't seal off, orrr it won't stop them. 'Turned out to be truue on at least two occasions and I wish I'd listened to him_." The Poet might still be alive. _Thinking of this, it was inevitable that he should also remember Jonathon. The Nigerian would probably still be around if Jeremy had been carrying a shotgun that day like Rex had warned.

Judy shuddered. "That's precisely why I use the small calibers."

"Youu don't believe in lethal force with these monnsters?"

"Yes and No. Don't get me wrong. I'm not playing games and I don't have a problem defending myself or my daughter. My Uzi is adequate and gives me more control over the results than a larger weapon would. But then my ultimate goals differ from a lot of people when it comes to the vampires. I believe we can save them eventually." She drew a deep breath. "But, if we kill them all now, the world is going to be missing a lot of really nice folks when the cure finally comes around."

"You sounnnd pretty sure there's gonna beee a cure. Someone tell you all of this, or is it just what you hhope happens?"

"Someone told me," she said quietly.

She smiled softly at the street in front of her as she drove and Jeremy could guess she was talking about God. That would be nice. To have God prepare you for the future. To hear His voice. There would be no second guessing.

"Forrgive me if I don't shaare your optimism." He patted the hilt of the sword. "But as for myself, I haven't heard God say annything lately."

"No? Well, maybe you just haven't been listening. He has been speaking ever since the universe began, you know. In fact, He's been talking to mankind for thousands of years, and—thank God—some people were listening. You know, His words have even been recorded in a historical document? Perhaps you've heard of it: The Bible?" Her eyebrows softened a little. "Sorry to sound like I'm scolding. I don't mean to." She was quiet for a little bit and then added, "It used to be harder to hear Him because there were so many other voices all the time. Now, I'll admit, He's obviously not the only one still speaking, but you have to start listening in order to tell the difference. Have you tried it lately?"

He was quiet a minute, thinking. What did it mean to try it at all_? If you can't hear something in the first place, how can you listen to it? _

"No. I don't really knoww what you mean. But let's get dowwn to something we can actually _talk_ about." He hung one elbow out the window, Rex fashion. "You ssay you want to make the worrld safe again, right? Isn't that what you've told me before?"

"Yes."

"Well, sso do I. But it's been how long now? Howw long has it been since KV broke out and wiiiped out most of the world?

"Since the plague first struck in Manhattan? The first documented case of mutation was on December tenth, 2009. The quarantine began nearly two weeks later—just before Christmas." She paused, her eyes looking up and to the right, calculating. "Today is Thursday. So, it all started two years ago, eight months, and twenty-six days."

"Okayyy, I wasn't expecting such an acccurate answer, but thanks. I had kiind of lost track." It was hard to believe it had been that long ago, and then again it seemed like an eternity. The revelation threw him from his train of thought for a second.

"I've been counting," Judy replied. She turned to look back at Victoria who was seated on a small chair Jeremy had bolted to the floor for her. "Your birthday is coming up in just a few days, Sweetheart."

"Hooray! I'm gonna be five!" The girl clapped her hands and smiled at Jeremy. "My birthday is September ninth." She went back to studying some drawings in Rex's book.

Judy glanced at him again. "I'm sorry. You were asking about the date for a reason."

"Riiight. Let's just call it threee years, since they went public with Doctor Krippin's cure for cancer a few months beforrre all hell broke loose. In betweeen that time and now, prettty much all the people who knew howw to do anything about a currre are gone. There's only one perrrson I knew—a doctor—who was immune. He miight be alive yet, still working on it, but he's probably dead by now, too." Jeremy waved his hands in apology. He felt bad for saying these things. He hated to discourage Judy.

She was silent but didn't look as hurt as he had expected. Maybe she'd heard this opinion before.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I just doubt a cure will ever be found this late in the gaame. We've lost too mmany people. The only way I seee to make the world safe again is to find a way to kill evverything that still has the virus."

"Does that include yourself then?" She held him with her eyes.

_Ouch._ Why hadn't he thought of that? Now it was his turn to be quiet. Jeremy gripped the hilt of the sword and thought about it. Maybe it was because he really wasn't thinking of himself as a vampire. Hadn't she told him he was different? But either way, he definitely didn't have a problem with killing them. There were now innocent people to think about, like Victoria and Judy. For too long it had been just himself. He had lost his will to live, but then they'd come into his life, and he'd gotten it back. There were people to love again. They were all that counted.

Judy turned at the intersection and a minute later they were pulling up in front of the City Proof compound. She slid the transmission into park, but left the diesel engine idling. She turned to face him.

"I need your word that you'll help me, Jeremy. You don't have to agree just yet, athough I'd encourage you to start listening to God. He's still real. He's still here. He has a plan that begins with Jesus, and He's not going to tell you something different than what He's been telling others. There are safety zones. Just like Noah's ark, He's prepared places of protection for those who would be His remnant. There are a lot more survivors than you think. And pretty soon I'll be taking Victoria out of here and back to one of the colonies, because I have friends who have been there and I know."

He started to speak but she held up a hand. "Listen," she said. She placed both of her hands over his sword hand. "I can protect you from those who would agree with the same sentiments you have so eloquently stated…if you come with us. That will be your choice when the time comes. But for now, I need your help tying up some loose ends here." She relaxed a little and looked in the rearview mirror at Victoria. "My friends probably think we're dead by now. I've stayed here to help you." She looked at him again and there were tears in her eyes. Not regret, but sincere feeling. "Now I think—no, I'm certain—God has brought us together for a reason bigger than either of us. We can help each other, Jeremy. There's a purpose in all of this."

Jeremy could only nod his head. A lump had come into his throat. He knew he wanted God to be real. He always had wanted that. Now, he needed it to be true. It seemed like the only hope he had left.

Judy slipped her hands from his and Jeremy turned his face away to breathe out the window. He was glad she couldn't see his eyes through the dark goggles. As for himself, the view was starting to get foggy.

* * *

The warehouse was as dark as it had been the last time. The ironic thing was that this time Jeremy could see plainly without the aid of night vision goggles. He kept his light-filtering eyewear pushed up on his forehead now while he walked toward where the generator was still sitting. At any moment he would be seeing the carcass of the vampire, lying in a heap. _This is where it all happened,_ he thought.

He stopped a few feet away from the generator and set the gas can on the floor, along with the containers Judy had given to him for the tissue samples. She had agreed to let him do the dangerous stuff alone. Sword in hand, he looked around, scanning the big room. Nothing. No sounds, nothing moved.

He moved toward the generator. _Any time now,_ he thought. _It will be laying right over there near that machine._ He reached the generator and still couldn't see the form.

Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. His eyes bugged at the sight of a dark spot on the floor next to the generator. The vampire was gone!

Judy was waiting with Victoria in the van when he came back to them. "We've got prrroblems," he said, leaning in through the sliding door.

"What's up?"

Victoria was sitting there, listening. Jeremy pulled Judy out of the van and a few feet away.

"The dude is gonnne."

"_Gone?_ I thought you said you killed him."

"I did! I mean, I thought I had. He was still frying when I left."

Judy looked over his shoulder back to Victoria. "Stay in the van, Honey, please." The girl's face disappeared back into the vehicle.

Judy looked at Jeremy. "We've got to go in there and try to figure out what happened."

"Arre you serious? Judy, no! This is a dead ennd. He must have broken away befffore he died. That thiing could still be alive in there."

Judy began to slip past him and Jeremy stood in her way. "Loook," he said, "there's not going to be any tissue samples today, okay?" He was trying to hold her back, but she kept pushing until she had slipped around him.

"Please, Jeremy. I'll have to see that for myself."

He let her go, following reluctantly. She went over to the side of the van and spoke to Victoria. Jeremy caught up just in time to hear her telling the girl to stay inside and keep the doors locked. It was the same way as before. Victoria frowned and looked down at her book. He could see she didn't like being left to sit. She was going to be five, after all.

Judy took her Uzi out of the holster and checked the safety. "It will just be a few minutes, Victoria. We're just going inside to look around." She slid the door closed and they heard Victoria lock it from inside.

Jeremy knew he couldn't talk her out of it. He ran ahead to the door and poked his head in to scan the area again. "Just wait here," he said, turning back to her. "I'll get the lights on. It'll be safe in a few minutes."

She nodded. He turned and ran into the shadows.

The generator had run completely empty, of course. He held his breath and filled its tank with the gasoline then tossed the can aside to get the fumes away from him. The sound of the metal can bouncing off the floor and clanging to a stop against a machine nearly brought him to his feet in a panic. He'd forgotten about the echo in the large room.

"Hey, Jeremy!" Judy called from the door around the corner. "You okay in there?"

He cringed and nodded his head vigorously. _She can't see you nodding in the dark and around that corner, Old Buddy._ "Yesss!" He had to shout it.

He ducked again from the reverberation of his own voice, scanning the room, carefully looking under each machine. So far nothing else was moving. He laid his sword on the top of the generator, carried the whole thing a few feet from the pallet, and then set it down and began pushing it with his hands toward the end of the building where the electric panels were.

He began to feel better about being inside. The difference between now and his last visit was notable. He was not as frightened as he had expected to be. In fact, with the extra energy he found himself almost relishing the idea of a tussle with the vampire again.

_Say, say, old Playmate,_ hummed Jeremy, _come on out and play with me._ He was being smarter about moving the generator this time, too. He could rest his chest on top and scoot along with his legs. Not so awkward. He stopped at the end of a row of machines and looked down the aisle. He could see the large conduits coming down the wall back there now, though from his low-slung position the panels themselves were still hidden.

He stood to his feet. _Climb up my apple tree…_ The tops of the machines were clear. It would be terrible to have something drop on him from above. Something with fangs and a black heart. _Slide down my rain barrel…Or down my razor sharp Samurai sword, whichever one you prefer._

The main panel was standing open the way he'd left it. Hurriedly, Jeremy hooked the generator up to it and gave the rope a pull. The small motor took off and immediately some of the overhead lighting began to glow and hum. It was working. Jeremy pulled the goggles back over his eyes and left the generator behind. He walked back to meet Judy who was already coming around the corner into the growing artificial light.

Together, they raised the bay door. It slid up on its tracks overhead, inch by inch, bringing a flood of the natural morning light into the large room.

Still, nothing else moved within.

Judy walked over to where the generator had been. She was studying the dark spot on the floor. In the new light, it did look like something had died here. Somehow the body had been removed later. Jeremy watched her as she picked up one of the sterile containers and began making preparations to scrape some of the sticky fluid from the floor.

"I don't know if this will work or not," she said, her nose wrinkling at the smell. "But it's worth a try."

Jeremy gazed around at the big room. Everything looked different with the lights warming on. But it was all familiar. The old forklift was still sitting, crashed into the pallet of broken windows. Glass littered the floor. Nothing else had changed in here. Unless…

No, the M-16 was still there. He went over and pulled it from beneath a machine. Holding it in his hands now brought back memories, things he had habitually learned to push from his mind. _Rex. Jonathon._ But there was something new he hadn't expected. It felt lighter in his hands. He himself had changed. The realization came over him—the old rifle no longer meant the same as when his life had depended on in it. Jeremy sighed and rested its buttstock on the ground. He walked on, leaving the M-16 propped against the side of the machine as he continued looking around the warehouse.

The oddity of the place as a site for a vampire attack struck at him again. The thing before that had reassured himself of safety was still there. That was the fact that this place did not seem like a vampire hang out. There were no physical signs, which would have been immediately apparent had they gathered here for any length of time. Besides the rotting bones of victims, animal or otherwise, there should have been a stench of urine and human feces. But there was nothing. No sign of vampires now but that sticky pool of fluid on the ground.

He looked over at Judy. "I thiink I'll loook around."

"Don't go far. I told Victoria we'd be right back."

"Riiight."

Jeremy walked toward a stack of pallets against the far wall. His mind was replaying the action from the last time he had been here. The vampire had been so quiet while he worked with the fork lift. It didn't seem right. Where had the beast come from?

Behind the pallets he found a double door hidden. The shelves and pallets nearby had blocked his view of it until he'd gotten around them. His mind reeled and the sound of his pulse raised a notch in his ears. That day in the dark, the footsteps he had heard coming toward him had come from this direction. Jeremy stared at the door. The monster could have been hiding behind it the whole time.

_What if…_

He leaned back around the pallets to check on Judy. She was still hunched over her work on the floor, within hearing range in case he shouted. He looked back at the door and his grip tightened on the sword. He began reaching for the knob, his heart rate already tapping in his ears like an insistent snare drum.

* * *

Soon-to-be-five-year-old Victoria sat with the big book in her lap. She loved books. There was something special about a book. Anything could happen in a book. But this one was the coolest ever. Jeremy's friend had written it all by himself. He could draw the best pictures, and she could read his easy words, too!

She turned the page and her eyes fell upon the drawing of a man's face. The words below it said, _Self portrait, 2007. _She wondered what that meant. The man's face was kind and pleasant. He looked familiar. She had seen that face and that grin before. But where?

The idea came upon her all at once. She should ask her Mama! But…

Mama had said to wait here. Victoria looked longingly out the window of the van at the door her mother and Jeremy had disappeared through. Her tiny fingers toyed with the switch that would unlock the doors. It was daytime. Why did she have to stay in the van? It was safe in the daylight anyway…


	26. Chapter 26 Horrible

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville and Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

"_You gain strength, courage, and confidence by each experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do." _—_Eleanor Roosevelt (1884-1962)_

**Horrible**

A child's voice echoed in the warehouse and stopped them both cold. Jeremy's hand came away from the door knob and he rushed back into the open.

There was little Victoria, standing in the light of the open bay door and holding Rex's book open to a certain page. "Mama!" she was saying, "Can you read this to me?"

"Victoria!" Judy was on her feet in an instant and heading for the girl. "I told you to stay put, and I meant it." She caught Victoria by the arm and began leading her back to the door. "This is a very dangerous place and you've disobeyed me, Baby."

Jeremy followed as far as the doorway and stopped. He saw Judy taking the girl around behind the van. Well, at least the two of them were both safe for the time being. He turned back to the room. That door. It held endless possibilities. He had to find out what was behind it.

_Creeeak,_ it gave way to his hand, opening to reveal another entire part of the warehouse he had not expected. It was completely black inside, possibly powered from a different feeder source than the lighted area behind him. Jeremy had to push the goggles up from his eyes in order to see again. He steadied the sword and started through.

A feeling of exhilaration swept over him as he glided into the dark chasm. Hardly believing his own courage, he caught himself actually hoping there would be some kind of action in here. The nervous energy of his body was propelling him now, making him feel like he could fly again. It was just like the night he'd escaped from the Plexiglas cell and gone exploring. This felt good.

The faint smell of water running on concrete, swirled together with a very gentle hint of vampire. He tested the air but couldn't pick out anything unique in it and decided it was probably not a fresh scent.

There was a fluttering sound of fleshy wings from somewhere above him in the rafters, followed by a short exchange of high pitched squeaks. _Only bats, vying for position, _he reasoned. So far, nothing dangerous. He went deeper, trying to see.

Down to his left, a short, thin crack of green light flickered in the blackness. He could see it at a distance, but it was not bright enough to illuminate anything beyond itself. He began walking toward the light, putting one foot in front of the other. For a moment it felt as though he was walking in open space, it was so dark; at any moment he might step and fall into an eternal abyss. The impression was brief, and he immediately determined by the echo of his footfalls that the flooring was secure the entire way.

He pressed onward until he had reached a point in between where the luminescence of the doorway behind him no longer reached. Here in the dark, however, he could now tell that he had come part of the way down the length of a great breezeway that had been sealed off to any outside light. Jeremy strained to see down to the end but his vision was swallowed in blackness. The only thing to do was to head for that crack of light ahead and to the right. He'd had no idea these buildings had such depth to them.

He moved forward, trying not to stare at the light. It was just a dull green flicker, but bright enough against the contrast of the blackness around it. He found it mesmerizing as he drew nearer.

The smell of damp concrete became more pronounced the further he went. He could now hear a trickle of water running somewhere. _Leaks in the plumbing? _Somehow this place had not lost water pressure over the years. That was strange, unless there was an underground spring, bubbling up. The only other possibility was that someone had stayed here for a time and found a way to turn the water back on to the building. He supposed that most of Queens had been gradually shut down to all utilities after the quarantine, just as in Manhattan. There was still pressure in the water mains, since the city's supply came from the mountains, but survivors would have to treat it themselves before drinking.

Finally he reached a point where he could see that the green crack was caused by a light coming from under a closed door. There was also a soft glowing square of light now visible on the door itself and Jeremy was close enough to recognize this as an unbroken pane of obscure glass. But what could be making the green light? Only one thing he knew of made a light like that. Jeremy frowned at the thought.

He crept to the edge of the doorway, being careful not to make a sound, and listened with ear to the wood. So far, he had not heard anything, but the vampire smells were getting stronger. And, remembering the last time he'd been here, he figured there could be predators lurking anywhere. Maybe even watching him in the dark, calculating his weaknesses.

Warily, he touched the back of his hand to the metal knob. It felt cool. This was more out of habit than anything else. Jonathon had taught him to always touch metal with the back of his hand first. It might have been electrified as a vampire deterrent in the past, and now that he'd turned the power back on, one hasty grab spell death for him. _That would stink._ _Or more likely, I would stink, _he thought_._ He sniffed at the door. There was a general kind of vampire odor on the wooden door itself, but the scent was the kind that lingered, so it could be old.

There was something more, maybe a hint of the familiar…But the smell wasn't fresh. He shrugged, finally pulling the sleeve of his coat down over his palm and placing it around the knob. _If no one else around here is stupid enough to leave their own signature-scent on things, why should I?_ The knob turned more easily than he expected and the door began to creak open.

"Jeremy!"

His head snapped back from the doorway at the sound of his own name being hissed from somewhere in the dark. He looked back and across to the other side. Judy was standing back there, a tiny silhouette in the rectangle of lighted doorway, trying to see out. She kicked the stops loose from the second door and let it swing wide to let more light shine out.

"Are you out there, Jeremy? Where did you go?"

The sound of her voice was an affront to his sense of secrecy. He hunched down and came padding the entire way back toward her through the darkness. She caught sight of the movement, heard him coming, and immediately swung the Uzi into position. He pulled up short.

"Don't shhhoot," he said. "It's me."

"Jeremy! Don't scare me like that! You nearly got a mouthful of lead, you know it?"

He walked up to her, still feeling the giddiness of the danger. "Small caliber lead," he said, grinning. "I cheww that stuff up and gargle it beforre breakfast."

"What in the name of Insanity are you doing in the dark? You about scared the living dead out of me!" She was whispering in high pitched squeals and caught herself to get the next question out in a lower tone. "Can't you turn the lights on out here?"

"Nno. I don't know where the panels are for this area. But there's a rooom across the way with electricity. I was just…"

"Forget it, we need to get going. This place gives me the creeps." Judy started to turn around. "I've got as much scrapings from the floor as I'll ever get and Victoria is getting antsy out there by herself."

"Wait," said Jeremy, catching her by the arm. "I waant to explore that room over there. Something's going on here, and I don't like the smell of it."

"We don't have time."

"Then youu go without me. I can make it home by myself. Meeet me at my place." He started to turn away.

"Jeremy!"

The tables had now turned. She couldn't see his eyes behind the goggles which he had already pulled down over them, but if she could have, they'd have been wild with dangerlust. She must have been sensed his energy, though. It was game theory all over again, and this time he was finally the one in control.

"Please, Jeremy," she sighed, "You know I won't leave you here."

"I just want to loook inside that room. Maybe I can find some liight switches from over there. Go back to Victoria."

"She's fine. She won't get out of the van again."

He looked back at her. "Are you surre?"

She nodded. "Believe me…I'm coming with you."

They waded back through the darkness to the door with the green crack of light. It felt more nerve wracking this time, having Judy with him. Suddenly the danger was no longer his friend. He took a little more time smelling the door knob when they got to it. That familiar scent was still there, but it was so well masked that he couldn't get it. Finally, they went through.

"Lights coming on," said Judy. She had been waiting impatiently behind him while he was inspecting the doorknob.

He barely got the goggles down in time. Flourescent lighting buzzed overhead in the small office. She had found the switches behind him next to the door.

"I wiish you wouldn't doo that. We should check thhe place out first."

"Sorry. Well, I figure—and this is just a guess—but if there's anyone in here, our cover was blown a long time ago."

_Yeah, our cover._ Jeremy scowled and moved into the room past the desk. There was another doorway off to the right where the green light was coming from. _The smells in there!_ He wanted to see what was…

"Hey, look at this!" Judy was pointing to a filing cabinet in the corner. A drawer had been left open and there were twenty dollar bills billowing from a manilla folder inside. Some of the bills were lying on the floor. She bent down, picked one up and examined it.

Jeremy's interest was piqued. In spite of better instincts he hovered in the doorway, looking back at her. "Anythiiing written on it, by chance?" Even as he said it, a chill passed through him and he felt the hair rising on the back of his neck again. He began to turn, as if in slow motion, back toward the darkened doorway. Judy's voice sounded dream-like and slow:

"That's what I'm looking for. I got to thinking about what you…"

A vicious growling gurgle erupted just in front of Jeremy, cutting Judy's sentence off. He heard the woman inhale sharply behind him, and then something bulky and dark was springing upward at him from the floor. It was on a collision course with his jugular.

He spun, instinctively raising the sword, but the monster was already past his guard. It crashed into his chest, and Jeremy went backward and to the ground with the creature following through the doorway and landing on top of him. There was a flurry of beating limbs and gnashing teeth, and just as the commotion got underway, someone's foot coincidentally struck a light switch.

The room went dark. Jeremy's goggled shades were still covering his eyes and he couldn't get to them. He was left wrestling with a snarling, thrashing beast that he could not see.

"Jeremy!"

"Juudy, get out of here!"

He heard her breathing, moving obediently toward the door. The sound of her hand skidded along the wall for the knob. Somehow he would have to swing his sword down on the vampire from this odd angle. He reached with his free hand until he was gripping the throat of the other, and then pushed up with all his might, trying to get a good angle with the sword.

The creature suddenly stopped struggling and released him. It sprang up as Judy began pulling the door of the office open. Jeremy came immediately to his feet. He heard Judy gasp again and then there was the sound of a body crashing against the filing cabinet. The Uzi barked several rounds of fire into the darkness as the door slammed. Jeremy flung himself to the floor again.

"Judyyy!"

"Okay! Okay, I'm done shooting."

Jeremy leapt to his feet, fumbling to get the goggles from his eyes. He could see again, what a relief!

He could see Judy. Reaching for the light switch!

"Noooooo!"

Light flooded into his dilated pupils and he was blinded for the second time. This time it hurt, bad. He wrenched the goggles back down and looked around. The two of them were alone in the room.

"Wherrre did it go?"

Judy looked dazed. She gestured dumbly with her submachine gun, pointing to the closed door. "Out."

He snatched the Uzi out of her hands and burst from the room, twirling the knob on the goggles to clear with his free hand. There the creature went! He could hear bare feet pattering swiftly across the concrete breezeway in the darkness.

He ran toward the sound, bringing the gun up into position. The Uzi bucked in his hands, spitting flames into the dark after the fleeing vampire, and Jeremy charged forward continuing to fire until the magazine was spent.

He stopped and listened, couldn't hear a thing but the ringing of his own ears for a second or two. Then, somewhere in the dark, the muffled sound of another door thudded closed. The beast was gone. Escaped!

He kicked at the door on his way back into the office. Judy was sitting behind the desk in a swivel chair, her fingers shaking, clutching his sword in one hand. She was staring at a twenty dollar bill in the other hand, holding it up to the light.

"You were right," she said, oblivious to his irritation. Her voice sounded mystified, lost in shock. She tossed the bill down and picked up another one. "These all have the scribbles on them. You were right."

Jeremy let the Uzi clatter onto the desk in front of her. "Yourrr clip is empty." He rushed into the side room and stopped. There was a panel of twelve security monitors in there, the source of the green light.

He walked up to the screens and glared at them. The entire facility was on display here. Each screen changed systematically from one of its cameras to the next. There was the electrical panels and the generator. There were the giant shelves with pallets of windows on them, and the rows of machines. At one point he even saw their van sitting outside at the curb.

He froze.

"Victoria!" Judy screamed her daughter's name from the doorway.

He turned and saw her gawking at the monitors over his shoulder. She pointed at them. "The van," she said. He nodded.

They both ran for the door.

Behind them in the inner office the monitors continued to flick from one scene to the next. The camera view with the van came up again. It showed the driver's side door plainly sitting open. There was no sign of movement within or around the vehicle. On the sidewalk nearby lay a large book, opened to a page with the drawing of a man's face.

The man's face smiled up into the sun.


	27. Chapter 27 Terror

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. All characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville and Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

"_We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light." —Plato _

**Terror**

Judy was first to arrive at the van. She poked her head in and made a quick search of its interior. Jeremy hung back and examined the broken door. By the looks of it, something had ripped the entire thing open, breaking both the latch and lock and crunching its hinges. Obviously, a violent entry. He moved aside as Judy staggered back away from the van. Her hand was over her mouth.

Jeremy watched the woman's eyes as he set his hands on the door frame of the van. He saw her look down at the open book lying on the sidewalk nearby. She stooped to pick it up. Judy blinked and stared at it, then blinked again. A strange expression crossed her face and Jeremy wasn't sure what to make of it.

_She's grief stricken, _he decided. Judy could brave an abyss of darkness where living vampires were known to haunt, but this was too much. Her child was in the unknown. And whose fault was it? Suddenly, Jeremy felt like howling with grief himself. Once again, the old feeling had returned. Everyone he ever touched and loved was being taken away.

_No! Not Victoria! _He screamed the words in his mind. He could not accept it. He wouldn't let it happen again. Not this time.

Jeremy leapt into the van and began sniffing frantically around. On the seat near the driver's door he ran across a foreign human scent and knew immediately it was Victoria's kidnapper. The man's shoulder must have brushed the leather in his haste to extract the little girl. There was a bit more of the scent on the steering wheel, but that was not as easily detectable. _Gloves, of course._

Jeremy angled his sword toward the seat and punched the blade into the expensive leather. Using a sawing motion, he carved out a small patch from the upholstery, then held it to his nose.

When he emerged from the van, Judy was still holding the book, whirling frantically on the sidewalk. She appeared to be looking for visual clues, perhaps tire tracks or missing vehicles. The woman had extraordinary powers of observation and memory—much like Victoria's, only better refined. He knew she could probably tell if something obvious had changed in the immediate surroundings since they'd gone inside the warehouse, like a car that had moved, or an open door or window where one had been closed before. He glanced at her eyes now as he walked past, carrying the patch close to his nose. She noticed him.

"What is that? Did you find—? You found something in the van!"

He brought the patch away and carefully sniffed at the wind. There was very little breeze and it seemed like he could almost follow the general direction of the scent on the air. It pointed back toward the warehouse. After a few feet, however, the trail disappeared again. He was stuck.

"Nno," he said, disappointment thick in his voice. He looked back at her, saw her shoulders beginning to sag. It wouldn't do. "I've got the sscent, though. It's human, I think. A man. Maybe infected."

Judy took the leather patch from him and held it to her own nose. He could tell from the look on her face it was just a piece of ruined bucket seat to her. She shook her head and stared at him.

"What do we do now?"

Jeremy could feel his skin reacting to the sunlight, an itching sensation was beginning to spread down from the inner part of his elbow joint down his forearms. Apparently just a little extra stress and the virus gained a bit more headway in his body. But to save Victoria he would gladly give all his skin, give his life.

"Weee go back to that rroom," he said and he began moving toward the warehouse.

"No." Judy frowned, again shaking her head. "We've got to find Victoria! Here, down here, smell the sidewalk!" She started to get down on her knees to show him what she meant. "You can find the trail."

He took her by the arm. "Judy, it's no use. Nnot that way. The rooom's our only clue. Whoever did this wwasn't acting alone. They could watch ourr every mmove from in there." He gently released her arm and motioned at the open bay door, then began jogging back toward the warehouse. Behind him, there was a slight pause. The sound of the book skidding and being lifted from the sidewalk as Judy stood, followed by quick footsteps confirmed her agreement. They were together on this one.

* * *

Victoria was looking into the eyes of a very bad man. She could tell. There were sick _good_ people out there, and there were sick _bad_ people. This man was neither. He appeared to be at least partially well…but very, very bad.

The large, bald man had small tufts of orange fuzz growing on his head and face. He had been carrying her over his shoulder in a kind of loping run, but now he set her down, shoved her roughly into a chair, and began methodically strapping her to it with a roll of strong grey tape. He had already taped her mouth and hands with the same roll in the van. That was because she screamed and bit him on the wrist. He didn't want her Mama to find them. He was bad.

"Nowwww," said the man, growling and straining out the word like it was painful for him to talk, "youu don't get away… Victorrria."

He knew her name! She glared up at him, chin down. If only he would remove the tape. She would bite him again. Then she would scream for Mama and Jeremy.

"Wwhat? Don't remmmember me?" The bad man heaved his heavy frame onto the surface of a large wooden desk and appraised his captive. The desk creaked beneath his weight, but he seemed sure of himself. There was a flicker of evil desire in his eyes. It made Victoria feel sick in her stomach.

They were in an inner office not far from where the man had taken her from Jeremy's van. Victoria expected Jeremy and her Mama would come through the door at any moment and rescue her. She looked at the door, pleading with her eyes for it to open.

The man began pulling off the brown jersey gloves he was wearing. "I hhurt," he said, "I hhurrt. You don't knoww…friend of your mother. Wee go back lonng way, remember? Ha ha ha." He gaped widely at her in what could only be understood as an attempt to smile. She could count large yellow teeth in his mouth. If he was a friend, then why had he tied her up like this?

"Ssee, my dear," said the man, seating himself further back onto the top of the desk and narrowing his eyes, "Yourr mmother and I met in Mmanhattan." He stared down on her. "Ground zero," he added with some emphasis, as if those two words should mean something special to her. They did not.

Victoria got a picture in her mind of the desk collapsing beneath him. She looked away from him, hoping it would happen.

He seemed not to notice and went on. "I hhad just invited herrr in for tea, but then…she up and ddisappeared on us. Imagine? My mmen…quite surprised, I think. Ha ha ha, I fed some of 'em to…vvvampires for it." He looked hungrily at Victoria when she turned to stare at him. Surely he could not have done _that!_

"But," he continued, his yellow smile only broadening at her look of shock, "Eeventually, others learn better manners, become morre obedient. Just as you. Just as mother will…and thhat overgrown lab expeeeriment of hers."

The man gave a few more laughs and Victoria shuddered. Why was her Mama not here? Slowly she began to feel afraid. What if they did not find her? What if they _could_ not find her? The man had carried her a long way through a dark passage and down some stairs. It was cold in this room and it smelled like…_dirt and spiders._ Mama and Jeremy could look for a long time and never…

The man suddenly slid from the desk and appeared to be listening to something above them, his head cocked to one side. He turned back to her. "I affraid," he said, "mmust be going. _Rats_ mmore clever than the _ccat_ assumed." He came toward her, extending both hands with obvious excitement. "I take youu…for _delight_."

He reached for her chair and swung both her and the entire contraption over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing at all. They began moving again, through a doorway, into the dark and down another tunnel. The sound of dripping water plinked carelessly in the dark and the man's footsteps made _squish, squish_ sounds. She could see nothing but the ceiling above her from this position. Floor joists and cobwebs whizzed by her nose as they bounced along.

Victoria tried to scream but could not because of the tape. She could not even cry.

* * *

Jeremy led the way back to the room with the monitors. Immediately he went to work, searching for smells. Judy followed her own instincts and the trail of monitor wires along the floor to a corner closet. It opened to reveal a deck of video-receiving equipment, all busy recording and compressing surveillance files onto a stack of hard drives. She stared at the equipment and forced herself to begin pushing all fear from her mind. It was going to take some rational thinking to get on top of what had happened to Victoria.

Jeremy was scrounging around on the floor and came up with a twenty dollar note. "I thinnk that vampire was one of the scribblers," he said. He slid the note across his nostrils, inhaling. "There's a slightly morre human quality to their sscent than that of the others."

Judy's acceptance of the writing had certainly come with its shock value at first; she had not been ready to buy into Jeremy's theories from the start. Now Judy knew she was going to have to accept it as fact. In truth, she was already embracing it now as the basis for understanding what they were dealing with. She was ready to move forward.

She nodded at him and followed a cable back to a desk with a console and keyboard linked to the hard drives for accessing playback of the surveillance files. "If they're communicating with written symbols," she said, "they've already surpassed anything I've ever observed. Keep hunting. We'd better find out all we can about them."

The video playback interface was asking for a file by date, camera, and time. She got up and went to the monitors again to look more closely. As the views changed from one camera to the next, she noticed that an ID number in the lower right corner of the screen also changed. Watching the monitor with the van's image when it came up, she took note of the camera number, and went back to the console. She punched the information into the appropriate fields and clicked play with the mouse.

An image of the van sitting outside at the curb appeared. Victoria's little arms and hands could be seen gripping the steering wheel, pretending to drive. Suddenly two cloaked forms dashed from under the camera and onto the screen. They ran with heads ducked low, as if they were afraid of being struck by an unseen force from above. Between them, they carried a steel motorized contraption of some kind. They quickly set it up next to the driver's side door and Judy could see that part of it was a base unit with a gas powered motor. Hoses came from the base unit up to a tool which they forced into the cracks of the door. Victoria's face appeared in the window for an instant, looking down at them, and then retreated back away from the door as it suddenly was ripped open by the machine from the outside.

Judy gasped and Jeremy looked up from his search. He came around to where she was and watched over her shoulder.

On screen, the two cloaked figures turned and fled immediately, carrying the motor and jaws between them the same way they had come. A third figure, larger than the others, came running forward into view just as they disappeared from camera. This man went straight into the van and reemerged a few seconds later with a kicking and very wild-eyed little girl. He stopped once, pushed her back into the driver's seat for a second and then bound her hands with what appeared to be a roll of duct tape. The girl's mouth had already been taped. Then the man yanked her out of the seat like a rag doll and carried her from view, still squirming and trying to get free.

"I'll kill thhem!" said Jeremy, pounding his fist on the table.

Judy stood to her feet, the back of her hand across her mouth. She removed it. "They have my baby!" she said, her voice cracking. Tears came to her eyes for a second and immediately she shook away the emotion and set her jaw. "They came from this building," she said, "and they went back the same way—probably right through the main doors."

"Iff they eeven harm a hair on her hhead…"

"Right. They couldn't have gotten far. Did you see how they were afraid to be out in the sunlight for very long? They must still be inside somewhere."

"Hhow did they gget the door of the van open? I mmissed that part."

"Never mind, I'll tell you later." Judy looked directly at Jeremy and held him with her eyes. "Think you can pick up their trail now? I'll stay here and try to find more video leads."

"No wway! I'm not leavinng you."

"We don't have a choice, Jeremy. We've got to split up. I'm armed. I'll be ready for an attack." She picked the Uzi up, ejected the spent magazine, and rammed a new one in. "We are going to get my daughter back, okay?"

Jeremy stood up and gripped the sword. He frowned out at the door into the small office. "I jusst wish we had ssome way to ttalk. We need ssome radios."

That jogged Judy's memory. "Hey, follow me." She led him out into the adjoining front office and pointed at a microphone and an old fashioned box with dials and switches on the shelf next to the desk. "This place has a public address system. If it works I can call you." She reached over and flipped a power switch on the box.

"Testing," she said into the mic. Her voice boomed outside the room over the loudspeakers. She looked at Jeremy.

"Wworks for me."

"Then get going. And Jeremy?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful out there, okay?"

"I wwill. I'm gonna kill tthose monsters."

Judy followed him to the door and called after him as he ran across the dark bay again. "You won't be able to call me. So come back here in thirty minutes if you can, okay?"

"Okkay."

His footsteps echoed back to her in the dark and she closed the door and locked it.

"A lot of good that's gonna do you, Judy." She was thinking about the metal jaws and how easily they had extracted her daughter from that van. It made her shudder. If vampires were now using tools, how would humanity ever survive long enough to cure them? _God. Only You can save us, Lord._

She went back into the monitor room where the playback console was. There were lots of other cameras. She would have to find the one at the main door first, then start playing back files.

Jeremy appeared on one of the screens. He went over and seemed to be checking on the generator at the electrical panels for a few seconds. _Good thinking, Jeremy, we don't want the power going down on that side._ She didn't know if it would also shut her side down. He had said this side of the building might have its own panels and feeders, but it wouldn't do to have to find out the hard way. _No light and no electricity._ She didn't want to think about it.

Jeremy went to the main doors and Judy took note of the camera number on that monitor. She paused long enough to watch him begin sniffing around the floor of the warehouse. Breathing a prayer for him, Judy went back to the console and began entering her selections into the data fields.

The hand-stitched book of Victoria's was lying next to the keyboard where she had laid it down, and she mentally pushed it aside for the time being. There were some deep questions she would have for Jeremy about that book when the time was right, but not now. Victoria was in this building somewhere, and she was going to find her girl.

"Wait and see, Baby. Mama's gonna come for you. Just wait and see."


	28. Chapter 28 Doorways

**Dear readers**, I've created a forum subtopic for answering questions asked in anonymous reviews for this story. It's just another way we can interact, but I hope it will also solve certain communication problems. Just, please bear with me, I am not able to devote a lot of time to writing or other things right now, but I will try. Click on: forums/ Books/ I Am Legend/ I Am Legend Timeline & Other Details. (**Aiedeen**, I address the question you asked in your last review.) I encourage everyone to look through the other notes I've posted in the main forum. One point of interest is a missing day and a half in the movie's timeline which I've tried to explain in detail, and which I'm planning to make use of in this story. (If I've miscalculated, please, someone tell me.) As always, thanks for reading, especially to everyone who takes the time to leave a review. You make my day, more than I can express!

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. This story and all characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville or Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear. _

"_When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us." —Helen Keller (1880-1968)_

**Doorways**

A familiar scent still lingered near the open bay door of the factory. Jeremy snuffed it in, letting the texture of the smell waft slowly up through his nostrils, announcing itself to his waiting mind. The presence of this smell was so obvious to him now he was almost surprised he had missed it before on their way out to the van, but to be fair, they had been in a sort of panic at the time.

Things were different now. His head had cleared. All confusion, fear and anger—they were on the way out, those things being replaced by a singular resolve. In fact, every sense in his being was finding its focus, melding together with all other parts of him into a sole purpose: finding little Victoria as quickly as possible. That, and perhaps punishing those creatures responsible for taking her.

He put his nostrils to the doorframe where one of the kidnappers had apparently placed a gloved hand to steady himself on the way back into the factory. The smell was plain as the nose on his face.

_Green Jacket._

An image of the vampire in the green coat that he had seen just the other night leapt into his mind as its molecules deciphered themselves in his olfactory. The pasty faced creature had been scribbling, drawing, keeping tabs on the events of the night. At the time Jeremy had been willing to dismiss the act as a freakish thing of vampirical mystery. An enigma or curiosity—something which both scared and intrigued him, but not worth getting any closer to inspect. However, now the monster had gone and gotten itself involved with things it had no business in. The disappearance of a very special little girl, for starters. And then all of this other junk with the filing cabinet, twenty dollar bills, and security monitors. _My friend, you can no longer be ignored._

A low growl involuntarily rumbled its way up through his chest, a groan of hunger for action. Jeremy stilled the sudden voice, clasped his fingers around the hilt of his sword and began moving quickly along the path of smells the kidnappers had left for him. He now had a reason to track the green-jacketed creature down. Interrogation would be a timely and delicate pleasure, should any of them decide to put up any resistance.

Jeremy was hoping there would be at least a little resistance.

The trail led a different way through the factory, into an area he had not yet explored. He came to another set of swinging double doors and felt the brass plate with the backs of his fingers. It was cool. He put his palm over it and pushed the doors open and letting them swing wide while he positioned himself slightly to the side in case of another attack. The hallway beyond was quiet and dark. Nothing came springing up at him from the floor like before in the inner office. He moved quickly inside and let the doors swing closed behind him. The scent trail continued onward.

The flooring changed from concrete to tile inside. Jeremy made his way down the hallway, glancing behind him to be sure he was not overlooking something in the darker corners. He could smell Victoria's scent now along the floor here and there and his pace quickened.

The trail led him past several small offices—all of them locked—until it arrived at a door that stood slightly ajar. This door was almost to the end of the hallway, where it then teed into a larger corridor. So, a corner office. Again, he brushed the backs of his fingers over the doorknob before giving it a push. It swung open easily and he stopped to listen before venturing in.

A thought suddenly came to him. It was too bad he didn't have a trained dog to do the initial safety clearing on occasions like this. Some of the early survivors had been training healthy dogs to do that kind of work for the day-patrollers. Dogs could smell Krippin Virus at a distance, were brave enough to venture blindly into a quiet room or apartment, and could alert their masters before the humans ever entered danger. It would have taken a lot of the stress out of entering an unfamiliar room like this one. Jeremy got a fleeting memory of Dr. Neville's puppy as he moved into the room now, sword at the ready. The doctor had brought her to a few of the morning meetings where she was a sensation with the survivors, but Jeremy always remembered how she'd looked on that last day he'd seen her.

--- ---

He had been waiting in Neville's office with Jonathon at the headquarters building in Manhattan. Dr. Neville was due back in a few minutes so they'd gone in to make themselves comfortable. Neville liked to discuss with Jonathon the locations of their recent vampire catches. It was often a tedious, information-only affair, and usually Jeremy waited outside, not caring for boring details. This day, however, it had been raining and Neville wasn't around, so a rest in a dry office sounded good.

He was seated in a corner chair waiting while the Nigerian had gone into Neville's private washroom to use the toilet. As he was sitting there staring at the doctor's wall plaques, the office door nosed open and a half-grown German Shepherd strutted in. The dog came right over to Jeremy and sniffed at him, tail wagging. _Ah, good judge of character,_ he thought, smiling for the first time in weeks. _You've been growing a lot, too._ Jeremy was just putting a hand down to pet the dog when, suddenly, Jonathon opened the bathroom door.

The hair on the back of the German Shepherd's neck and back stood straight up. The dog barked twice and growled at Jonathon, teeth bared. It took a threatening step toward the man and looked ready to spring. Jonathon froze in the doorway.

"Easy girl," he said gently. "It is only me, Samantha."

Neville came through the office door next with a handgun held low in his hand, not extended, but ready nonetheless. He glanced around the room quizzically, summing up the situation, then put the gun away and called the dog off.

"Good girl," he said, petting the animal and winking at Jeremy. "Looks like her lessons are taking, huh?" He looked at Jonathon. "You weren't where she expected anyone to be."

At times it seemed like Robert Neville had something against his friend. Jeremy had never figured it out since the two of them obviously had an arrangement for working together on projects. At the time, however, he had not cared enough to inquire into it. Jeremy was still trying to bury memories of his loved ones and to separate himself from feelings for any other person who could be taken away. It wouldn't have helped to go looking into Jonathon's troubles.

For once the Nigerian just looked pale. He never said much about Neville's dog after that, but Jeremy always got the idea that he didn't trust her. And perhaps the feeling was mutual.

--- ---

Every scent in the room paraded itself now before his nasal passages, a bombardment of messages and disconnected facts_. This is what it is like to be an animal,_ Jeremy thought, _every sight, sound, and smell has information, but only a few have meaning._ He entered the room, scanning in all directions for movement or something out of the ordinary.

It was a typical office—desk, filing cabinets, pictures on the wall. There was the usual odor of mildew inherent in closed and dark buildings where the air no longer circulated well. Jeremy followed the scent trail over to a tiny model house filled with miniature vinyl windows on a display stand in one corner. Suddenly, he noticed a bulky form hidden behind the model. He sprang back, bringing the sword up for a slashing downward movement, but the form didn't budge. Pausing, he leaned back in, sniffing the air around the form, and realized it was not a vampire, but just the apparatus they had used to open the van.

Of course. Gasoline fumes and the warmth of oil from the recently used small engine still radiated from the contraption. Jeremy prodded it with his sword and part of it fell away to the floor with a heavy clunk. It was no wonder the vampires had left it behind, as heavy and awkward as it was. The Jaws of Life had served their purpose, having given them Victoria. What they wanted with her now…the thought was too terrible to imagine. He only hoped it wasn't too late.

Back on the trail, he found another door from the corner office, this one entering the main corridor. He made a left and soon stood before a janitor's closet.

The vampires had entered here, but Jeremy paused. _Uh-oh. Small, confined space. This could be it._ He considered the door and put an ear against the solid wood to listen, but the door was thick and he could hear nothing. It was only the thought of Victoria and the possibility she could be on the other side that made up his mind to open it. He stood back, crooked his elbow, angling the sword for a quick forward thrust, checked the door and pulled it toward him.

An animal-like ferocious growl erupted from the opened door, just as before. Time seemed to slow and Jeremy saw the hideous face of the vampire as it sprang from the closet at him. He brought the sword forward just before the creature's weight could meet him. The tip of the weapon struck solid flesh and began to drive his arm back until he planted his feet and firmed it up. There was a feeling of give as the blade sank into the skin, then the vampire continued to slide toward him as the blade pierced through its chest. Teeth bared themselves at his face before the beast's eyes suddenly bulged and its spine snapped erect. And then Jeremy was rolling to the side as the weight of the monster grazed past him. They both staggered to the opposite wall of the corridor together.

Jeremy found himself standing sideways with his left shoulder against the wall, looking directly into his attacker's eyes. The vampire's expression had changed from rage to one of surprised realization. They both looked down and saw that Jeremy's hand still clutched the hilt of the sword which now protruded from the vampire's chest. Their eyes met again and the vampire's knees buckled. It began sliding down the wall.

Jeremy yanked on the sword to withdraw it, finding that he indeed did have to apply some force. He gave another yank. The blade seemed to have already begun adhering itself to the monster's interior as cell walls attempted to seal themselves of the wound. A silent snarl formed on the vampire's lips as Jeremy applied a sawing action to get the sword free, but the monster's arms seemed to have lost their fight. When the blade finally came, the grimace evaporated and the creature released a long meaningful hiss. Its head slumped against the wall in a twisted position and became still.

Shakily, Jeremy bent over the body. The monster was about his size but looked even leaner than he. A feeling of empathy and sorrow unexpectedly washed over him, and he thought, _It could have once been a brother._ He studied the form, instantly replaying mentally what had just happened.

Jeremy was surprised at how heavy the vampire had felt, for its size, but then Judy's information packet had explained all of that. _"Krippin virus redesigns cells to demand more calcium as well as iron." That's why they can take such a great beating from blunt trauma,_ he thought,_ and why they're so heavy._ Their bodies somehow could heal almost any wound instantly, too. Though in the case of his sword, the damage had been too extensive and the blade had held the flesh open, allowing too much blood to…

Jeremy glanced at the weapon, now trembling in his right hand. The sword was already getting sticky with the dark liquid. He knelt down and began cleaning it off onto the vampire's rags. That's when he noticed the way the monster smelled.

It wasn't the same scent as the trail he'd been following. This was an altogether different vampire than the ones that had taken Victoria! He sniffed at it again. It wasn't even the same vampire that had jumped him in the office with Judy. What did this mean?

Jeremy sprang to his feet, looking into the janitor's closet. There was no one else inside. He moved back to it and began smelling around the outer wall. No, the trail went in there and did not return. Victoria's scent was also there.

Carefully, he moved inside and looked around. It wasn't a large room. There were shelves with toilet paper and other supplies, a mop bucket and cleaning chemicals. The stench of the vampire he had just fought was not as thick inside as he had expected, however. If the thing had been crouching in here for any length of time, it might have touched everything inside and gnawed on the wooden shelves. There had to be something he was missing. He took another step and was rewarded by the creaking sound of wood underfoot. He stopped and made an experimental stamp with the heel of his boot. A dull thud resonated.

A trapdoor!

He immediately bent down and felt around for a handle. Finding none, he forced his fingers under an edge and pried until he had lifted the lid and flipped it open. Wooden stairs below descended down into an earthen basement, and a strong collective scent of vampires wafted up to him.

The texture of vampires smells coming to his senses were greatly varied. This was definitely a high traffic area he had just stumbled onto, with more vampires below than he had hoped. It was like a mouth of death waiting to swallow him. But Victoria's safety was all that mattered now. He took a tentative step down into the dismal blackness. Just then, a voice echoed over his head from the hallway outside the closet.

"Jeremy? Can you hear me?"

It was Judy on the P.A. system. Jeremy hovered at the top of the stairs, waiting.

"…I've got something you might need to see. Come back if you can."

_It couldn't have been thirty minutes already._ Jeremy looked back down at the hole. He couldn't just go back now, could he? Victoria was down there, somewhere close by. He could smell her scent here on the steps.

He went down another step but another thought stopped him. Judy's safety also mattered. He hesitated, not sure what to do, and the moment of dilemma reminded him of the time he'd not gone into another basement after Jonathon. Instantly an memory passed through his carefully formed defenses, that of the Nigerian's feet kicking once and dragging out of sight. He had run away from his friend back then. He could not live with that again.

Jeremy's fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. _Hold on Victoria, I'm coming…_

* * *

Judy held the microphone to her lips again. She had lost track of Jeremy after he'd left the main factory and gone into the first hallway. She did not like not knowing where he was, but apparently the security cameras were scarce wherever he had gotten to. And he really ought to see the new information she had for him.

"Jeremy… Jeremy, if you can hear me, come back to me. This is really important"

She slowly set the microphone down on the shelf and walked back into the other room with the monitors. On the screen with the console, she had set a video file to loop on playback—that of the two men with the contraption, going through the doors Jeremy had later exited. But then the man with the kicking child entered the screen. He tossed the girl onto a rolling cart that had been hidden in the shadows, and then leapt onto it as well. She saw him put a foot down, pushing twice on the floor and causing the cart to scoot forward. When they got to the doorway where the others had gone through he stopped the cart for an instant and seemed to tear a piece of Victoria's jacket away… then passed it forward through the doorway to a waiting hand beyond. The man then had to get down and catch Victoria who had jumped down in a bid to escape. He resituated the girl on the cart before also going through the doorway, both of them riding. Now the video started again at the beginning with the two men carrying the contraption.

Judy got up and paced the room. What was keeping Jeremy? Would she have to go and find him? She walked back over to the console where she had left the Uzi and let her fingers close around it. She lifted it from the desk and began slinging it over her neck and shoulder. She really ought to be keeping the weapon ready at her side. When vampires attacked, it was always at lightning speed, and the gun could do her no good lying halfway across the room.

Her eyes dropped back to the hand-stitched book there on the desk. Hesitantly, she reached down and felt the edges of its spine with her thumb. _Could this really be his journal?_ She put off the temptation to open it. That would come later once Victoria was back, if it wasn't too late already.

She turned to go, reaching for her leather jacket that she had draped over a row of tables. She would go and try to find Jeremy through that doorway in the factory. She would…

Something fell from a pocket, landing on the floor on the other side. Judy stepped back, looked under the table and saw it was her can of pepper spray. Ah yes, it had proved an effective defensive weapon against vampires in the past. It might again. She walked to the end of the row and came around the tables to retrieve the can. As she did, a dull thud sounded below her feet in the corner.

She stopped, her eyes straight ahead on the can, but her attention now drawn to the newly discovered trap door beneath her. There was another access into this room. The fact changed her grasp of the situation dramatically.


	29. Chapter 29 Tunnels

_This fan-fiction is based on the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. This story and all characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville or Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear. _

_"Even though I was their captive, the Indians allowed me quite a bit of freedom. I could walk freely, make my own meals, and even hurl large rocks at their heads. It was only later that I discovered that they were not Indians at all but only dirty-clothes hampers." — Jack Handy_

**Tunnels**

There were certain things Jeremy had never much cared for. Creepy basements were definitely on that list, and to be honest he'd never even liked venturing into his own to maintain the generator. But then again, these days, you did what you must. And in a search for a missing child, there really wasn't a choice.

He paused midway down the steps. Spiders were another thing he didn't like, not that he felt a compulsion to kill every one of them, especially if they were minding their own business, but in the dark where they might dangle down onto your neck, no thank you. He brushed a cobweb from the corner of the trap door opening and slowly trailed his fingers around the rim of the square opening he had just come through.

From this angle he could see there was a spring mechanism for releasing the trap door lid. On closer examination, he decided that if the catch had been fully engaged he would never have been able to lift the lid from above, unless there was another way to release the catch from the janitor's closet. That was a possibility. Or maybe he'd just gotten lucky.

His fingers touched something else connected to the release mechanism, a slender cable running from the catch, along the bottom of the floor joists and then to a pulley. From there, he could just make it out in the low light, it went off to the side, out of his field of vision. Someone could release the catch by yanking on the cable, thus…opening the lid. Afterward, the lid could be reclosed by further pulling on the cable.

Jeremy thought about it before proceeding. If someone were to close the lid on him, he should be able to reopen it simply enough. He nodded and continued down the stairs. It was good to be careful, although the delays were bothering him. Victoria was down here somewhere, and who knew what those kidnappers were capable of, or what they wanted? On the other hand, he couldn't do her any good if he got trapped. So the extra care was necessary.

His mind swam as he reached the bottom of the steps. _Right, Jeremy, keep telling yourself that: Be Careful. But, face it, you're scared. Just when you ought to be busting in on those guys—bashing heads—instead you're sneaking around here, being 'careful.' _

_Okay. Of course I'm scared, I don't like basements. But Victoria… _

His thoughts returned to the day he'd first found the little girl. It seemed like months ago already. It was hard to believe he'd known her only days. She'd been so brave, holding his hand as they descended the stairs to start the generator in his basement. A tear came to his eye and he inhaled quickly and wiped it away. She had trusted in him, in his protection. He couldn't let her down now.

_Victoria, I'm coming. _

He could see better now. A dim glow from around the corner provided just the right amount of luminescence for his eyes. That was good. At least some light was necessary to see—which was just one aspect of this disease that had handicapped rather than improved him. Contrary to what he'd assumed before about the vampires, he now understood they could not see in complete darkness. It was just that their pupils no longer reacted to brightness.

Self consciously, he reached up and felt for the knob at the side of his goggles. Just checking. They were his personal mechanical advantage, something the others wouldn't have. Down here in vampire-land the goggles would not be much use, but somehow it was comforting to know they were there just in case. Kind of like a security blanket.

Squinting ahead he could see he was in a narrow passageway. Light filtered through slots cut into an iron wall to his right. On the left, the wall was solid, made of concrete. He glanced back at the stairway as he stepped away from it. There was a small pocket off to the side of the steps where a human sized form could potentially hide in the darkness. But there seemed to be nothing there right now.

Again looking forward, his eyes focused on another trap door. This one sat low on the wall facing the steps. It was fixed into a sliding track, and there was another cable attached to a catch at the top of it. This cable again led up to a pulley, then out to his right, through one of the slots cut in the iron wall the same way the first one did.

Jeremy walked up to the sliding door and looked it over. It was made of a heavy gauge iron, even stronger than the kind he and Jonathon had used in the past for their vampire cages. The thing probably weighed a hundred pounds. _Could be a formidable shield, _he thought, studying it_, if there were any handles or some way to hold onto it._

Turning to his right and facing the iron wall where the light was coming from, he put his eyes up to a slot. Out there, rows of pipe and conduit of different sizes and colors lined the walls. So, this wasn't really a basement at all. He was standing in an entrance to a service tunnel beneath the factory. Gas lines, electric, even the water pipes ran through these tunnels to feed different areas of the building.

He knew it was common construction practice here in the city to use such tunnels, though most people never saw them or gave any thought to how the utilities arrived in these industrial places. There was almost more of New York below the surface than at street level, what with the subways, basements, and other service passages like this one. And as far as he knew, no survivor with his head still screwed onto his shoulders had ventured into a place like this since the plague began. It was vampire territory if he'd ever smelled it. The danger zone.

Quietly, he placed his hands through some of the slots in the iron wall and gave it a shake, just testing. Solid. _What was not common construction practice,_ he thought, _was making a barrier like this._ It had apparently been put into place after the tunnel was made. But for what purpose?

As he felt around on the iron wall, his fingers rubbed over a vertical separation on its surface. He was touching a doorframe. The door itself, however, was locked solid from the outside.

He glanced back down at the sliding door. There was only one way to go if he wanted to continue—through there. He was going to have to lift the slider and see what was on the other side. And from the smell of things, he already had his answer.

_Vampires… Oh Victoria._

Jeremy put one hand on the cable above him, just beyond where it came up and through the pulley. Sword readied in the other hand, he took a deep breath and began to pull down. The heavy door lifted slowly up its steel tracks and he began to hear the stirrings of beasts within, waking from their trances…

* * *

Daylight had been slowly fading outside, but in here, in an office, it was an eternal day. People used to work in offices all the time, under artificial light. Judy remembered. At the end of a day, someone would announce it was quitting time, and then they would just get up, turn off the magic lights and go home. It used to be simple like that, to control things. Most people took it all for granted back then. But not Judy. She had spent enough time in places with no electricity, even before the plague, to not be always grateful for a nearby light switch.

She looked at her watch and again felt the panic gnawing at her. They were running out of time. Luckily this place wasn't in downtown Manhattan. There, the skyscrapers themselves created dusk, blocked the sun, and enforced an earlier curfew for survivors than in areas where the horizon was lower. It would already be getting dangerous over there by now. But why was she thinking about Manhattan?

_Focus, Judy._

She turned and paced back to the outer office, considering calling Jeremy again on the P.A. Her fingers touched the microphone lightly and hesitated. It was maddening not knowing where he had gone to beyond those doors, but so much time had passed…he could be anywhere by now.

_And Victoria._ Her only daughter was now in the hands of men infected with a poison…of the mind. Once, she had believed she held a basic understanding of that poison; now her whole grasp on the Krippin virus was crumbling. At this point it mattered very little. Her fingers dropped away from the microphone. Even if the vampires were now revealing more intelligence than she'd ever expected of them, they were still infected with evil. And they had still taken her little girl.

Judy ran back into the monitor room and knelt in the corner next to the trapdoor. Somehow the vampires had gained access to this room before she and Jeremy ever entered, but Jeremy had not been able to tell it from the smell on the door outside. That meant…what? The solution was suddenly plain. The vampire that attacked them had not entered through the office door. She stared at the flat square cut into the tile floor. The monster had come from below.

Digging fingernails into the groove around the square of the trapdoor, she tried to get under it to pry up, but it seemed to be locked. There was no handle on the door itself. Judy sat back on her calves and tried to clear her mind. Again the scene from the security monitor with Victoria being roughly tossed onto the cart came to her. She closed her eyelids tight, and next thing she knew, words were pouring from her lips as natural as breathing.

"Lord Jesus, help me…"

* * *

Jeremy waited outside the open trap door for a snarling vampire to come through to get him. Maybe he could drop the gate on a head if necessary. But so far there were only excited scraping and shuffling noises from the other side, as if the creatures in the darkness beyond were waiting for an expected treat. He bent down and tried to see through, but his hand on the cable above him prevented a good angle for viewing.

There was only one way to go. Taking another deep breath, he released the cable and quickly stepped forward to catch the door with his knee. Now, pressing against it he was able to get one hand under the bottom edge and lift it up. Vampires began screaming in expectation on the other side, shaking and rattling things, but so far nothing attacked his exposed fingers or legs.

Jeremy dropped his weight, rotating under the palm of his hand which still held the gate. The move brought him smoothly around and through the opening, sword first. He stopped cold and stared at the view before him.

The lighting on this side was about the same intensity as the other, and he could dimly make out the boxy shapes of eight narrow four-foot tall iron cages, evenly distributed along both walls. Nothing came racing toward him as he had expected. Instead, at the entrance of nearly every cage, the face of a human vampire appeared. Each one hunched at the mouth of its cage with translucent knuckles gripping bars. They drilled him with their enormous pupils and unblinking eyes. Jeremy stared back in astonishment. The monsters were captive! Someone had…put them here, had been using them for…attacking him.

One of the cages housed a non-human occupant. A hairless canine came to the entrance and peered through its bars at him. Dog and humans alike had now quieted down and were simply looking at him, saliva dripping from their panting tongues. The expression on each face seemed identical, but to Jeremy it was unreadable. Was it a hunger? Curiosity or fear?

_Or maybe…they just want to be free, _he thought._ I know I would. _

There was a narrow path between the cages and a door at the other end. That path was the only way forward, but if the door was locked when he got there… Jeremy felt the weight of the heavy gate on his shoulder and realized if he set it down now he might not be able to get his fingers under it again. And the catch on the outside would engage. He would be trapped in here.

There was a large bone lying nearby. Using the sword, he raked the bone to himself, then positioned it upright, allowing the gate to slide back down and rest on it. The bone made a cracking sound and flexed slightly under the weight, but looked like it would hold. Now if he had to make a run for it, he could simply kick the bone out of the way as he dove through.

He stood up and began walking slowly between the two rows of cages. The motion seemed to break the vampires from their spell. Out came the bony hands with their long, gnarled fingernails, reaching from either side; and all pandemonium broke loose as screams of hunger filled the room. Jeremy managed to keep himself just out of range from either side by staying to the centerline. Finally he was to the door. His fingers closed around its handle and tried to turn it. The latch didn't budge. He pressed harder. Nothing.

_Great, its locked. Now what? It's creepy in here. Go back._

He turned to go the way he'd come but something caught his attention. He found himself gazing at the sliding trap doors on the front end of each iron cage. From every one, a single cable rose to the ceiling, through a pulley and again out through the iron wall. Someone outside the iron wall could open these cages and release vampires on him, one at a time, or all of them at once. Panic surged into his limbs and he instinctively raised his sword.

In perfect timing with his thoughts, something flashed across the lighted slots in the wall to his left. He swung to look. A shadow had appeared there, closing off several of the slots. Was someone out there? The vampires in the room could have alerted the entire underworld with their cries.

Just then, another dark form rose up the wall, blocking more of the slots. There were now two figures out there, looking in at him. Perspiration began steaming from Jeremy's neck. The scent of the onlookers' bodies drifted in to him. It was Victoria's kidnappers!

"Givvve her backkk! You hearrr me?" He stood erect and pointed the tip of his sword at them. He could poke it right through the slots in the iron, run them through their eyeballs before they had a chance to blink.

Neither form moved. They continued to stare.

He tilted his chin and shielded his eyes for a better view. In the darkness it was difficult to tell features, but he could just make out two sets of fully dilated pupils staring back at him. One of the forms turned to the other and made some kind of hand gesture, a downward jerking motion in the air. The second form turned to move in response to the command, and the terror of what they were planning hit Jeremy.

The cages! They were going to raise the gates on the cages!

He whirled into action now, faster than he had dared move in a long while. His own arms blurred in motion before his eyes, like the turning of fan blades, chopping at cables with the sword, severing them from their gates.

Quickly he moved down the line. Gates were beginning to lift off the floor but just as quickly Jeremy's sword struck against them. Broken cables whipped up and over his head, and on he went, ignoring the hooting of the caged vampires and staying clear of their reaching arms.

He was almost to the end of the row, staying just ahead of the gate pullers, but then one of the cables didn't quite break with his first swipe. Jeremy turned and hacked at it again. The gate fell onto the head of an infected male. It let out a cry and jerked itself back into the cage. But that extra second had put him behind. One of the cages opened far enough for the dog to slide through before Jeremy could get there.

The monster's inner organs shown through its hairless, transparent skin. Ribs heaving, the dog wasted no time with hesitation. It sprang at Jeremy's throat, a gurgling and growling bark emitting from its snapping teeth as it came through the air in slow motion toward him.

Jeremy felt himself rotating instinctively through the narrow path between the rows of cages, toward the animal before he realized what he was doing. The sword caught the beast vertically along its right shoulder, effectively altering its course in mid-flight and sending it hurtling past him as through the revolving spikes of a turnstile in the subway.

The dog struck the top of an iron cage and bounced off the concrete wall. Jeremy turned and glanced at his audience again outside the iron wall. The two forms were jumping up and down with excitement, watching the display. They were causing as much racket out there as the other vampires inside with him. Jeremy backed toward his escape route as the dog scrambled to its feet and came at him again.

It was enough. Jeremy saw the outstretched arms from the cages and knew there was only one way this ended if he allowed the battle to continue, and that was badly for him. Taking a step forward again to meet his airborne assailant, he drove the hilt of the sword into side of the animal's skull, somehow managing to turn himself out of the way by revolving around the dog as before.

This time the beast bounced into the waiting talons of an infected human. Jeremy stood aghast at the scene that followed, hardly believing his own eyes at how quickly the dog was then dispatched by the raking fingernails. As if through a meat grinder the beast entered, piece by piece, past the bars and into the belly of the iron cage. Into the gnashing teeth of the human beast within.

The excitement in the small room was now nearly deafening. Jeremy swung around and looked back up at the kidnappers. They were silent again, not moving. Both of their heads then turned slightly to their left and something like an electric spark touched Jeremy's mind. They were looking at the bone he had lodged under the heavy trap door!

One of the vampires outside the wall began moving swiftly alongside the slots. And suddenly Jeremy was in motion, too, heading for his escape hatch. He began his dive just as the sound of the outer iron door, its heavy hinges creaking open, met his ears.

A thin, slimy hand entered toward the bone, inches away from grabbing it before Jeremy was also there, sliding through the opening. He met the wrist with his own fingers splayed wide, slapping down around it and jerking it away from touching the bone.

The kidnapper yelped and tried to pull back, but Jeremy was now completely through the opening and on his feet again, still holding the man's wrist. He followed the momentum of the skinny arm back through the doorway and out beyond the iron barrier wall into the main service tunnel.

He was now free in the tunnel, but not yet safe. Jeremy began twisting the vampire's arm, pulling the monster down to the ground. He had switched his sword into his left hand and now ducked his entire body under the skinny one's armpit and used the hilt of the sword to drive into the man's shoulder blades. They landed together with Jeremy's knee in his opponent's spine and the infected man's chest thumping on the hard floor beneath them. There was a satisfying _oomph _as they hit the concrete floor of the tunnel.

The second kidnapper was jumping up and down through all of this, still positioned in front of the iron wall, and Jeremy glanced up at it. He could now see that the kidnappers had been standing on a low bench for better viewing of the cage room where he had just defeated the canine.

Seeing Jeremy on top of its fallen comrade, the second kidnapper stopped jumping. Their eyes met for a second and Jeremy noticed the ragged green army jacket for the first time. The infected man turned and fled down the service tunnel.

Jeremy thought about chasing immediately. But, what to do with the one beneath him? The creature was already beginning to struggle against the joint lock he had it in, somehow ignoring the pain. Jeremy stood up, wrenching on the arm still twisted behind the vampire's back. With the hilt of his sword flat in the palm of his other hand he grasped his opponent's left shoulder and lifted the monster to its feet. Together, they marched back through the iron doorframe. Jeremy bent down and slung the monster through the sliding trap door, then kicked away the bone. The heavy slider came down with a _sshhhlock!_ and Jeremy had to check to make sure neither of them had lost a toe or other appendage in the affair. That thing could make an excellent guilotine. Nope, it was all good. They were both safe on their respective sides of the cage room.

_One down, two to go_…

Jeremy came out the door, latching it behind him, just in case. Then he too was running down the tunnel, nose to the air, following the direction Green Jacket had taken. If he was right about his bearings down here, the tunnel led in the direction of the inner office. Which was where he had left Judy…


	30. Chapter 30 Tears

_This fan-fiction is based on the theatrical release of I Am Legend (2007), starring Will Smith, which is loosely based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. This story and all characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville or Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

_"He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from off all faces; and the rebuke of his people shall he take away from off all the earth: for the LORD hath spoken it." –Isaiah 25:8_

**Tears**

The sound of his footfalls echoed from the tunnel walls, reminding him of rubber-bands being twanged. A bit like his nerves right now. A dull ache was beginning to form in his gut, and if he had stopped to think about it for just a second he would have noticed the pain had already set into his extremities. Pain was the furthest thing from his mind now. Right now, it was all about rescue. _Victoria and possibly Judy being the needy ones. _

Jeremy's right boot struck something lumpy as he sprinted down the tunnel, following the path the vampire had taken. Reflexively, he bent down and snagged it up as he passed. He knew immediately what he had. It was a piece of Victoria's jacket! Her scent was all over it, plain as if the little girl had been standing here herself. Jeremy slowed, stopping to inspect the cloth fragment, afraid of finding the little girl's blood on it.

He looked around. There was nothing to suggest they'd torn her apart down here. No blood, no signs of struggle anywhere except for the torn fabric. But something seemed wrong. He held the piece to his nostrils for a second, then off to the side, and sniffed around trying to detect her unique scent again in the air and on the floor. No. It had vanished behind him. That part of the trail which had been "Victoria" stopped here with the piece of jacket in his hands. It dawned on him now that the girl might not even be down here. He had been following false bait into a trap.

A horrific feminine scream reverberated through the tunnel to him now, rattling his nerves to the core. _Judy!_ Her voice was followed immediately by an animalistic vampire howl. False leads or true, there was no going back now. The action was all forward.

He burst into a sprint. Up ahead in the dim light, an iron wall with a gate resolved into clarity, looking identical to the ones Jeremy had left behind him. The iron gate was slightly ajar, and beyond that, wooden steps led upward to a brighter artificial light. The kidnapper had gone through the gate, possibly was now attacking Judy at the top of the...

Before Jeremy could reach the end of the tunnel, something large and green tumbled down the steps and splatted against the iron wall. Jeremy slid to a stop, unsure.

A green jacketed form came staggering backward out of the gate, tripped over something, turned and sprawled once on the floor. The beast rose unsteadily, and suddenly the monster was careening down the tunnel toward him. It looked oblivious to his presence.

Jeremy felt a twinge in his stomach as his instincts immediately switched into full alert. This was Victoria's kidnapper, after all, and one of the two that just had tried killing him only minutes before. His sword came up into both hands, ready.

The vampire continued to stagger towards him, legs moving like some drunken wino, but arms and upper body twitching as though fire ants had been set loose on its skin. And talk about madness, this guy was raging. Howling and hissing, the vampire clawed at its own face with germ-blackened fingernails. Jeremy had never seen behavior like this—neither from infected nor the healthy.

Judy, angel-faced, appeared next through the gate after the monster. Her eyes popped when she saw Jeremy standing there.

"Jeremy! Thank God you're okay!"

There was something outstretched in her hand—a small metal cylinder which she held upright. She stepped through the iron gate carrying the cylinder, and boldly marched toward the vampire in the green jacket. The monster by now had collapsed against the side of the tunnel, rubbing its face against the bare concrete. Rage was already being replaced by moans of distress and a struggle for oxygen.

Judy's combat boots echoed in the tunnel, and relief swept over Jeremy at seeing her untouched. The woman had some guts! Here she was, alive, and taking charge as usual. He grinned. He might even forgive her for scaring him to death with that scream of hers. _Women. _What he had missed all these days of his isolation.

Jeremy shook away the fight-or-flight impulse he had felt at first sight of the vampire suddenly coming toward him. Judy was getting awfully close to the beast, and it by no means looked safe. He took the remaining few steps and reached Green Jacket about the same time she did.

Standing at a safe distance, he positioned himself between her and the brute and rested the tip of his sword against the infected man's throat. He glanced back at her.

"Wwhat did you do to it, Judy? Wwhy's he scratching at his fface like that?"

She modeled the cylinder. "Made for grizzly bears. Ten percent good old fashioned _oleoresin capsicum—_concentrated cayenne pepper. It shoots a fog twenty feet in open air. This fellow got a full dose in closed quarters. Right in the old blood-sucker."

Jeremy nodded, awe-struck. The can looked like a miniature fire-extinguisher but without the hose, and for just the opposite effect. He had never heard of using mace on a vampire, but the thought of how it would feel to his own super-delicate senses was almost enough to make him gag for air himself. What a good idea.

"I ccould kiss you right nnow."

"Better not. There's still enough left in this can to give you a choking fit along with our friend here."

They looked back down at the vampire, now cowering from Jeremy's sword. It held the back of its hand to its eyes, trying in vain to see them. Uncontrollable tears spilled from irritated eye sockets and the creature looked away from them, sobbing. Almost pitiable. Almost.

_Our "friend here" also knows more than he ought to about our missing little girl._

Jeremy handed the sword to Judy who accepted it with a quizzical expression. He reached down, grabbed hold of the vampire by the flaps of its stinking green coat and hauled it to its feet. He slammed the infected man against the wall of the tunnel and was surprised at how easy it was to do this.

"Ttell us wwhere she is! Tell us or yyou can die right here." He looked over at Judy and raised his eyebrows.

"I get the hint," she said, placing the tip of the sword up to the man's throat the way Jeremy had done. "I don't know if he can understand normal speech or not, but from the evidence I just witnessed on the surveillance footage, I would say they are definitely showing intelligence. Jeremy, you didn't find any signs of Victoria?"

He shook his head. "Onnly this." He held up the torn fabric. The reminder was painful. Every second they wasted meant the girl could be getting further away. He tightened his grip on the jacket and slammed the vampire again. "Ttell ussss," he said. The vampire just looked at him sidelong, its eyes still watering from the pepper spray.

Judy pressed on the sword, not enough to penetrate, just enough so the vampire could grasp the gravity of its situation. If there were enough brain cells left in its head which the Krippin fever had not destroyed, the vampire might get the point.

The effect of the mace was still working. They had to wait for another minute in that position while Green Jacket got its breathing under control. So far it wasn't struggling too much to get free. Finally they tried again and its eyes seemed to register understanding. The infected man squinted up at Jeremy.

"Gggrrlll?"

"Yeah, that's rright, the girl. Wwhere is she?"

The monster's large pupils stared into Jeremy's, unblinking. Slowly it turned first its head slightly to the right and then its eyesballs. Clearly the monster wished to be elsewhere. It did not answer.

"Hey, you!" Judy said. She pushed harder on the sword, tapping him against the wall again.

A small squeak emitted from the vampire's lips in response to the pressure. And Jeremy was amazed at how frail these intelligent vamps seemed to be compared to the others he had run across. The wild ones out on the street came in all different sizes, and these last two had been on the smaller side for one thing, but they also seemed to have a kind of passive feel to them once he got his hands on them. Not that they were weak _per se_…but any normal vampire would never have allowed him to hold onto it like this. And truth be known, he never would have imagined trying it before. There was definitely a difference with these intelligent ones.

Judy shouted into the face of her little girl's kidnapper. "Give us back my daughter, you…you!" Her vocabulary included nothing terrible enough to sufficiently label the brute. She skipped past that part. "You had no right…"

Again, Jeremy felt the passive response as the vampire seemed to shrink in his grip from Judy. When the woman paused, it merely shook its head at her and whispered.

"Rrr-nn-d," said the monster.

"Wwhat was that?" Jeremy looked at her. "Was that a word? What ddid he just ssay?"

"Rrrrynnd. Ddd-oc-torrrr…" the vampire tried again, and then uttered some more syllables that were less clear. Judy and Jeremy both stared at the monster and then at one other.

"_Doctor?"_ Judy repeated the word. "I got that much."

Suddenly the vampire lunged forward a little and sniffed at Jeremy's sleeve. Jeremy had to shift his hands to renew his grip on the green jacket. They watched as a look of secret knowing crept over the intelligent vampire's features, a smug look.

"Nnn-ffec-tedd." It said, gesturing sadly toward Jeremy. "B-but…like usss, n-not."

"Nnot infected like yyou?" said Jeremy, "Not on yyour life, Bbub."

"This is ridiculous." Judy shoved the sword again, pressing the vampire back against the wall. "If you can communicate so well, where is my…?" She stopped, and something terrible flashed in her eyes. "No! No, I'll tell you what…"

Judy threw the sword aside. It clattered to the floor of the tunnel behind her. "I'm desperate, and this calls for desperate measures." She brought the can of mace up into the vampire's face. "You'd better lead us to my daughter, you get it? You're about this close to getting another generous helping of the good stuff." She positioned her thumb over the release valve.

The vampire's eyes went wide and suddenly it drew up and hammered down with its fists. The impact landed against Jeremy's forearms, breaking his hold on the jacket. Then, taking advantage of the surprise the intelligent monster squirmed away and fled down the tunnel from them.

"Go after him!"

"I'm allrready on it." Jeremy had to reach back behind her on the ground for the sword and then they were both in pursuit.

They charged down the tunnel after the fleeing green garment. The vampire looked over its shoulder at them. It was headed back the way Jeremy had come. Suddenly, it veered to the right and dove between some of the pipes through an opening in the side of the wall Jeremy had not noticed before.

Jeremy reached the opening and climbed through after the vampire. He stopped, finding himself in a smaller tunnel that branched perpendicularly from the main one. Judy came through right behind, smacking into his rear and making him scoot forward. He stood up and banged his head.

"Owww…"

"Sorry, but go! Go! He's getting away."

This tunnel was more crowded with pipes and less head room. The two of them had to duck as they continued the chase. The light level was also dimmer here, with fewer incandescent fixtures mounted along the walls of the tunnel than the main tunnel had. Jeremy noted that the bulbs were just the right intensity for a vampire's eyes to work well without pain, about the equivalence of a child's nightlight. These creatures perhaps had lost some brain cells to the plague, but at least they had thought of a few things before that happened.

The smaller tunnel opened again into a much larger one and Jeremy sensed they were no longer beneath the building. Up ahead the vampire's green coat fluttered around a corner. On they ran, and Jeremy kept the scent trail fresh in his nostrils even when they could not see the vampire at times.

The chase took what seemed to be blocks of city street, up ladders and around huge sections of pipe. Judy quickly fell behind. Once she called to Jeremy to be careful, but he was already into the exhilaration of the chase, re-experiencing the thrill of how it felt to fly. He barely heard her.

There was a set of stairs leading down to a lower level just ahead and the vampire leaped down them and disappeared from view. Jeremy followed, landing at the bottom. He looked up and could now see a heavy steel door at the end of the short corridor they were in. The vampire had stopped at the door and was looking back at him. It glanced from him and back to the round doorknob it was wrestling with. The delay was just enough for Jeremy to narrow the gap between them. He slowed, half expecting the creature to turn and give him a showdown at any moment.

Green Jacket hissed in frustration, sensing his approach. It put its entire focus on the door and managed to get it open. Letting out one last scream of warning at him, it ducked through and was gone.

Jeremy was at the doorway a second later. He burst out into a darkened cavernous room, realizing immediately they had reached the subway. It was much darker here, but the great tunnel had an ominous and hollow feel to it. The toe of his boot kicked something and he heard the splash of gravel in shallow water just off the edge of the walkway.

_Of course,_ he thought. Without regular maintenance some of the drainage system from the city streets had become plugged. That water had to go somewhere and many of the subway lines likely would be flooded. He backed away from the edge. There was something about the sound of water that he found extremely irritating. The thought of so much of it so near was nearly overpowering to his nerves. He wondered if it was this way with all the infected.

A shuffling noise up ahead brought him back to the present. The vampire was still moving, getting further away. Jeremy leapt forward in pursuit.

Behind him in the distance he heard the sound of Judy sliding to a stop at the entrance of the subway access and he looked back to see her peering carefully out the doorway before following. That was prudence, unlike what he was doing. He had freely tossed caution to the wind, it seemed. Judy caught sight of him and yelled again.

"Jeremy! Don't hurt him. He's our only chance of finding Victoria!" When he didn't respond, she added, "Jeremy? Remember, _we_ may be _his_ only chance at a cure, too! Jeremy?"

Jeremy continued on. He was so close to nailing this guy now. _Cure?_ _That's Judy talking again. _How could she even be thinking of helping her daughter's kidnappers? Jeremy ran on, forcing his feet to move even faster down the slippery walkway after the beast.

Green Jacket heard him getting closer and quickened its pace as well. For such a frail looking beast, it sure could turn on the speed when it wanted to. But inevitability was in Jeremy's favor. He was closing in. The end was coming, he could taste it in his mouth. Acrid, like…like that stuff Judy fed him.

The vampire reached a locked gate and could not get it open in time. Jeremy slowed to a stop and lifted his sword as the infected man now swung around to face him. A wild cornered look had come into its eyes and Jeremy saw a reflection there of his own experience. The vampire was panting rapidly now, unlike before. Exercise and stress had been hard on it. Gone was the sharp look of intelligence. A low growl now emitted from the man's quivering mouth.

Jeremy grinned in spite of himself. Victory at last. Adrenaline and perspiration were thick in the air, and he looked from the vampire to the sword in his own hands. The grin faded immediately from his face.

_Uh, why am I trembling? _

A stab of hunger instantly pierced through to his mind. The chase had been eating up reserves without his awareness. The vampire was not the only one that had suffered. The virus was already taking him over. It was that easy. It was that quick.

_When did I last eat?_ _What have I done?_

A snarling scream brought him back to reality and Jeremy looked up in time to see the vampire springing at him, teeth bared. Reflex took over completely now and Jeremy's sword flashed as he spun to the outside, driving down hard against a green canvas sleeve as it whirled past him.

The vampire struck the wall and stopped. It turned and glared accusatively at Jeremy and then down at its arm. There was a gash at the side of its right shoulder where the canvas sleeve now splayed open. A dark red liquid was beginning to wet the frayed cloth edges. The vampire gazed in shock at its wound, and Jeremy found himself staring at the redness as well. There was something about that color. Something bright and attractive.

Judy arrived, panting. "No! Jeremy!"

He was already in motion to strike again, to finish things. Somehow the empathy in her voice halted him in mid air, cutting through to the humanity left inside. He managed to throw out an arm at the last second and braced himself against the wall instead of landing into the vampire. The beast slumped away from him and scurried a few feet away back to the locked gate, clutching at its shoulder with its good hand. There was still a lot of water covering the subway tracks in this part of the tunnel, so if the vampire was afraid of getting wet it was effectively pinned down for the time being.

Jeremy leaned against his sword, panting, feeling a deep wave of nausea ripple through him. It ended in a rumble that shook him to his extremities and he had to put a knee to the ground to steady himself. Next came another stab of hunger which he managed to get under control. However, it was still several seconds before he could peel his eyes from his near victim. He finally rolled his head to the side and gazed back at Judy.

"I…I'm hhungry," he managed.

"No kidding." She tossed him a plastic bag from one of the pockets of her jacket. He tore it open greedily as she slowly passed him, approaching the vampire.

Green Jacket snarled at her, pressing himself against the gate. Beyond them through the iron grating, the dull yellow tiles of a subway station glimmered through. The walkway became broader out there, and the last vestiges of daylight shone down from escalators in the distance.

"Easy. Easy," Judy said, holding out her hand to the vampire. "We aren't going to hurt you any more." She stepped a little closer.

"Of course we arre," said Jeremy, stretching to leer at Green Jacket over her shoulder.

The monster snarled at Judy and pressed itself further against the gate.

"No, we aren't." She glared at Jeremy and turned again to the vampire. "We don't want to harm you. But we need to know where Victoria is."

"Yoou arre trying to reason withh an animaaal," said Jeremy, squishing the bag in his fist. He pressed it to his mouth and tried licking the rest of the contents from the sides. It was sticky, a bit like peanut butter in consistency, but much more nourishing. "Stay backk, Judy. That wwound will hheal and tthen it's ccoming after you."

Judy took another baggy from her pocket and tossed it to Jeremy. Without pausing, she reached in, pulled out another, and held it up for the vampire to see.

"This is really good vampire food," she said. "It helps you get your mind back."

Green Jacket just glared at her. It looked like it had not registered a word of what she was saying.

"Hey," said Jeremy, "don't givve my sstuff away! I might neeed that"

Judy tossed the baggy to the vampire anyway. It bounced off the creature's leg and landed flat on the concrete. Green Jacket eyed the bag and stared blankly at her.

"Grrreat," said Jeremy. "Now we'rrre feeding them, too."

Judy whirled on him. "You'd be just like him if we hadn't fed you. Now please be quiet and trust me. And while we're at it, why don't you get those pills out."

She stared him down, folding her arms.

"Great. Jussst Grreat." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle of medicine.

The vampire massaged its shoulder and studied the wound for a second. Slowly, it tested its arm and allowed the joint to move freely on its own. The gash from the sword was already healing. It looked over at Jeremy and saw him tearing into his second bag. Cautiously, the vampire reached out and scooped up the nearby plastic bag with its good hand.

Jeremy walked up next to Judy as the vampire lifted the baggy to its nostrils. It was still gazing at both of them through narrowed eyelids.

"Wwill that sstuff really bring its mind back?" Jeremy was beginning to feel better with the food inside him. It was always amazing to him how the virus could begin taking over so easily. And from what he'd read in the information packet Judy had given him, once an infected person went vampire and tasted blood, the virus simply had a heyday. The next step was always a downward spiral. Lucky for him Judy had arrived in time, or he might have done something he would never have…_even regretted_. The thought of it was startling. Every second he spent infected with Krippin virus, was another second he was in constant danger of becoming a living nightmare. And the scary thing was, he would probably never even know it when it had happened to him.

"Shhh," said Judy, "and give me that bottle of pills."

They watched as the vampire place the entire bag into its mouth and began to chew hungrily. Its eyes rolled back and a look of pleasure spread across its face as it continued to chew. After a while it opened its eyes again and focused on Judy. It pulled the limp remains of the plastic bag from its mouth. Jeremy was impressed with how clean the technique left the bag.

"Mmmorrrre," said the vampire. It began getting to its feet.

"Unnh-uhhh," Jeremy said, lifting the sword. "Nnot until wwe get the girrl."

"It's okay," said Judy. She already had another baggy opened and ready for the vampire. She took a step forward and extended the bag. Jeremy noticed the ends of a few pills sticking from the food substance at the top of the bag.

The vampire snatched this one away from Judy's hand and retreated back to the gate. Jeremy looked on disgusted, as yet another unit of his precious stash disappeared. When the vampire had eaten, it sat still for a while looking dazed. Finally it turned and stared straight at Jeremy. The intelligence was there again. Then it did something he had not expected. Green Jacket hung its head, right there in front of them, and began weeping like a child.

Judy and Jeremy looked at each other in amazement and then back at the vampire.

"It's going to be okay, now," said Judy, recovering. "We're going to help you…okay?" She began moving closer, leaning down. Jeremy stiffened, but Judy continued until she was close enough to touch the vampire. She put her hand on a green sleeve. "It's okay now. We're going to help you. We're friends."

_What kind of friend nearly slices your arms off for you?_ Jeremy wondered. _And squirts cayenne pepper in your eyelids?_ His first thought was they were going to be sorry for this. But he had to suspend judgment. There did seem to be something genuine in the infected guy's eyes. Maybe Judy knew what she was doing after all.

"Grrrl," said the vampire, allowing Judy to wipe the tears from its cheeks. "Bbring yyou to ggrrrl."

* * *


	31. Chapter 31 Dusk

_This fan-fiction is based on the theatrical release of __I Am Legend__(2007), starring Will Smith, which is loosely based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. This story and all characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville or Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

"_Those who have known the famous are publicly debriefed of their memories, knowing as their own dusk falls that they will only be remembered for remembering someone else." _–_Alan Bennett_

**Dusk**

Life seemed to have been one twisted joke after the next for the beast, as far as it could remember. Things had begun innocently enough, of course. He had been born—Byrnie McCarthy—his father's first son in a long procession of daughters. Child number seven. A lucky number for a happy little lad.

Luck had ways of getting scarce, though. Little Byrnie lost his father to a tragic work accident soon after he turned four. His mother quickly decided she had too many mouths to feed at home, and Byrnie was sent to live with cousins in Dublin. Looking back, that's when all the trouble really started.

He'd gotten mixed up with the wrong sort of blokes. They befriended him and taught him many things. The gang gave him back that missing part of his life, a feeling of belonging. It was good. But it came with a price.

He found he had to do some things that bothered him very much. Maybe that's why he turned to drugs when he did—the substances helped him forget his remorse, just like his duties helped keep him in favor with the gang. And that, back then, was all that mattered.

One thing led to the next, and years later he found himself in a shipping container bound for America with a proper number of his fellow ruffians. They were told it was a golden opportunity, their way to redemption. Apparently a fellow countryman had need of them in New York. And that man had a plan to change the world.

The beast in the green army coat now held onto mere fragments of these memories—nothing but a few weak links in the entire chain of events which he knew as "life." They rattled in his mind occasionally. But that was normally only on particularly lucid evenings.

* * *

The locked gate was an obstacle that Green Jacket seemed to have forgotten about. Had the vampire known a secret for opening it before, it seemed to be at a complete loss at the present. Now if they were to ever get Victoria back alive and live to tell the story, the gate might prove to be the kind of detail for which a recounting of the whole rescue affair would probably either be left out completely or lavishly included in glowing terms, depending on who it was doing the retelling.

Jeremy would most likely forget to mention it.

The young man now threw himself into the task, trying to stretch the bars open with his mutant strength. _Impress the girl and worry the goblin._ Green Jacket shouted encouraging gurgles. But in the end Jeremy finally put his back to the gate and slid to the muddy concrete, chest heaving, and admitted defeat.

"I told you when you started, Jeremy, let me do it. Sometimes a woman's way is best."

The slender brunette stepped up next to his shoulder and pulled a cylindrical object from an inner pocket of her jacket. That jacket had a lot of pockets! Jeremy flinched away, thinking it was the pepper mace again, and Green Jacket nearly fainted at the sight. But Judy gracefully pulled a protective cap from one end and they could see it was a something entirely different—a new device—something roughly the size and shape of an electric toothbrush.

They watched as she removed a flat, bent piece of spring steel from the cylinder, inserted the short end of it into the gate's key slot, then fitted the narrow end of the device in as well, and pressed a button. The device buzzed several times in her hand. Judy pressed slightly on the spring steel lever, gave the gate a little push and they heard a sliding click as the dead bolt dropped down. The gate swung open wide. So did Green Jacket's jaw. The vampire stared at Judy as she walked through.

Jeremy got to his feet. For his part, he was starting to get used to the woman's little surprises. "Shhe's an amazing wwoman. One of a kkind. Shut yyour mouth, you'll ccatch flies."

They walked out onto the passenger loading area, skirting around trash and a large sewer rat with a nasty set of teeth. A few of the overhead lights were still lit. Someone had strategically broken most of them, leaving a pattern just right for pupils that were stuck in the full open position.

A Jamaica-bound train was still sitting on the tracks on their side of the platform. The name of the station was placarded on the brick wall: "21 Street Queensbridge."

_So that's where we are,_ thought Jeremy. The place was barely recognizable in its current condition. He could see a dark line of slime along the bottom of the walls, evidence of a past water level when it had been higher. The three of them might have been trudging through ankle deep water right now, but it had not rained heavily in a while. The water was low enough now, they could have stepped into the train and still remained dry if they cared to. They didn't care to. Nothing smelled very good down here anymore.

Judy, nose crinkled, looked at the vampire. "Okay, this is your moment of worth. Where to?"

Green Jacket led them up the escalators, over the mezzanine and back down through the turnstiles. Just past the ticket booth, it pointed a bony finger toward a door in the side of the wall near the corner, and with contorting mouth and throat, the beast managed, "Grrrl. Keeep innn thherrre."

Jeremy held Judy back. He touched the doorknob with the back of his hand to assure safety, then tried turning it. "It's lockked," he whispered. "I can hhear through it, but therrre's an enngine noise." Then he got excited. "I can smmell herr! I can ssmell Vvictoria!"

They both grinned at the vampire and Jeremy slapped it on the back. A cloud of dust rose from the green canvas. The vampire grimaced happily in return, displaying a mouthful of cavities.

Judy inserted the electric pick gun and the door was quickly unlocked. They gave a push and it let it swing inward, each one holding their breath…

* * *

A rowboat glided through the dark tunnel, oars dipping and dripping in succession. The large man hunched over his frightened young companion as he rowed, cursing at every stroke. Things had not gone according to plan at all today. First the girl had made trouble. And she was supposed to have been the easy part. His shins and fingertips still ached. Then his little ratbarks didn't do their job and trap the woman and that overgrown lab rat of hers. They'd caught Byrnie and turned him, the little chancer! And maybe they had even killed Daly, too. Well, so far…Okay. He could deal with such things at a more convenient time. But the bad news did not stop there.

This, this was the last straw.

He had brought the girl to the drop-off site as ordered, but Rynd was late. The doctor forever thought he could come any time he well pleased. That was the kind of stuff that really burned the large man's breeches. Everyone knew it would be anarchy and "God forbid!" should they ever be found not watching for him when he arrived. But now everything had caught up with the large man at once. He was forced to take the girl and flee.

It was enough to drive an infected man insane all over again. Now he wouldn't have his own Delight, much less a portion to keep his remaining lackeys in line. He looked down hungrily at the little girl, saw her still glaring at him, and wondered what it would be like to give into the voice for once. It was calling to him even now. _Eat. Drink!_ So far Rynd had kept them well-fed and lucid with the Delight. But where was the doctor now when he was needed?

The large man swore openly as they continued into the darkness, assured that they were out of hearing range of the platform. Perhaps his voice would drown out the sound of the water lapping against the side of the boat. The constant dripping could shred the final remnants of a man's tender nerves.

He growled. "Iff Rynd won't payyy, Nnevvville miight."

The girl stared back at him wide eyed and tried to say something through the duct tape. The large man simply put his head down and rowed harder. Dusk was on them. Night was falling. He knew what to do with the girl now.

"Nevvville. Nevville." He chanted the name, methodically with his rowing. "Nnnevilllle."

* * *

"Victoria! Where are you, Baby-girl?" Judy's countenance dropped as she surveyed the scene. Her knees buckled slightly and she had to catch hold of Jeremy to steady herself. "Oh dear God, not again..."

They were standing in a mechanical room. Electrical service panels and conduits lined the walls. A large emergency generator hummed in one corner. And next to that sat an empty chair with strips of silver duct tape still sticking to it. Above the chair, suspended from the ceiling, a single security monitor flashed from one scene to the next: first, the door where they had entered the subway tunnel; then, a slightly distant view of the gate which they had gone through to come out onto the platform. The door of the gate in the monitor was still standing open. The final view was a surface shot of the street, presumably the one near the top of the stairway at the sidewalk.

Jeremy went over to the chair and sniffed at it. The seat was still warm. Victoria had just been here! His feet splashed imperceptibly in a tiny unnoticed puddle of tears as he turned back to Judy. Her shoulders had slumped, but Jeremy radiated hope. They were so close!

Green Jacket just stood there, looking around at things.


	32. Chapter 32 Homing

_This fan-fiction is based on the theatrical release of __I Am Legend__ (2007), starring Will Smith, which is loosely based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. This story and all characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of any mentions of Robert Neville or Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear._

_"I am in blood /Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, /Returning were as tedious as go o'er" _

_-William Shakespeare, Macbeth (Act III. Scene IV)_

**Homing**

The man sat, bleeding on the tiled floor from a wound inflicted by his own knife. He held his breath, clinging for dear life to the last vestiges of hope. Right now, in his arms, he was holding the last person in the world, his only friend. He had always believed he could save everyone, but…

Things had gone so terribly wrong today. What had he done? He could not look down at her. Looking would prove the nightmare was real.

So, he kept his face twisted away to his right, not daring to see what his own hands had done. His gaze fell instead upon the history-board of patient profiles. He had plastered the walls with them in his zeal. Suddenly, the horror of the moment began sinking in as he found himself focusing on that multitude of vacuous eyes. They stared back at him from the walls. Pictures of faces. Hundreds of his…victims.

_Samantha._

Lieutenant Colonel Robert Neville hesitantly let the body roll from his lap to the floor. Slowly, inch by inch, the man's head turned. Grief stricken eyes followed suit. Down…down…to the fresh corpse of the canine now laid at his side. His precious German Shepherd. Crumpled and lifeless.

Tears spilled over his cheeks, and he discovered as he tried to inhale that his throat had swollen in empathy with the dog's last struggle for oxygen. He could barely breathe himself. His chest convulsed rapidly as years of pent up feelings came pouring forth. He had killed her. He had strangled his last friend, his only partner in this madness, thinking he was doing the best thing. But now...

It was all too much! All around him the eyes of the faces taunted, _"Betrayal!" _

They were screaming it at him: _"You killed us. You said you could fix this! But you couldn't fix anything. Murderer! Traitor!"_

Robert Neville tipped his head back and wept as waves of sorrow racked his muscular frame. "Sam, Noooooooo!"

* * *

A high pitched whine tickled its way down through the station and into the mechanical room. Unmistakable—the sound of rusty automobile brakes stopping at a curb outside on the street. Jeremy was in the middle of coaxing Judy and Green Jacket from the room, wanting to continue their pursuit while Victoria's scent was still fresh. Stopping, he glanced at Judy to see if she had heard it too, but she only gazed back at him in agony. Her baby was not here. It was hopelessness, not cognizance of their surroundings, written in her red rimmed eyes.

Then he noticed the intelligent vampire's expression and had to do a double take. Green Jacket's mouth gaped open in fear. The beast had heard the automobile outside. Panic crossed it's face as it turned and stared at Jeremy.

"Rryyynnd!" Green Jacket hissed. The monster began looking frantically in all directions and moving about erratically as if undecided about a place to hide. Finally the vampire fled off into the shadows.

That was warning enough. Jeremy grabbed Judy's hand and pulled her after him back into the mechanical room. At first the woman tried to resist, not understanding, then the screen of the monitor above them flicked over to its camera at streetside. They both gazed up at the scene.

A long black limousine was now parked at the curb, puffs of oily smoke rising from its tail pipe.

A horn blared from outside on the street, echoing down to them through the chambered tunnel. Next, the sound of the limo's engine revving impatiently. It sounded to Jeremy like the timing might be off a tooth.

Judy pointed at the monitor. "There's a door open on the opposite side of the car."

It was true. The middle door on the driver's side was standing open. In spite of the settling darkness they could see the outline of the top of the door from over the car's roof. Someone may have just kicked it open from the inside. And then again, someone may have already left the vehicle. But that was not all.

Squinting at the monitor, Jeremy could just make out the dark shapes of long steel spikes jutting from the hood and top of the car. The hair on the back of his neck prickled.

_Pillagers!_

Suddenly the view of the monitor progressed onward to the next camera in its rotation, showing the door where they had accessed the subway tunnel. Jeremy growled in frustration. The rotation on this thing was slow, pausing five to ten seconds at each view. They needed to see what was happening up there on the street right now. _Pillagers?_ How could the street gang still be around? Just when he had completely forgotten about them they always seemed to show up again.

"Who is it?" said Judy, whispering.

Before he could answer, she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down into a crouch. Holding a finger to her lips, she pointed in the direction of the door, toward the escalators outside. Had she heard something?

They shuffled over into a darkened corner behind the generator and tried to listen, but the effort was useless next to the running motor. Jeremy started to move, but Judy stiffened and caught his knee.

A slow thunking of hard heels on rubber escalator grips echoed to them. Someone was coming down. Jeremy remembered the look of panic on Green Jacket's face. He pulled Judy lower, putting her between himself and the generator's base. Whoever this was, Judy must be protected at all costs.

A shadow fell into the room. The door began to creak open. Jeremy hunched tighter into the darkness, thinking for the first time that Judy was not carrying her Uzi. He'd forgotten about it, having been so enamored with her new pepper-spray weapon. But now with his own machine gun still back at the warehouse they were basically sitting ducks except for his sword. And they were too far from the door for effective sword play…

Someone was now standing in the doorway. Jeremy could sense the entrance of a new presence. A seasoned voice, rich but with a slight trembling quality cut through the din of the generator. It was an aged voice, and fatherly—the trademark sound of a kind old gentleman.

"Come out, my children, I'm not going to hurt you."

The voice was at once both music and magic. Jeremy immediately felt his blood tingle and his body beginning to rise in response to the appeal. But Judy held onto him, her fingers digging into his shoulder. She was less certain? _But that voice!_ This was a survivor, not a Pillager or vampire.

Jeremy simply had to steal a peek for himself. He flexed away from her grasp and leaned out to the edge of the motor. Carefully he put the side of his face to the vibrating metal frame and slowly rolled his head around the machine until just one eye could see…

An old man stood there alone, large-framed and white-headed, dressed in a navy suit with brown wing-tipped leather shoes and red tie. His beard was the same color as his hair and his crimson cheeks seemed to beam light into the room. The man looked like the CEO of some dynamic, earth-shaking, Fortune 500 company—completely out of place here in this dingy room with his gold jewelry and expensive shoes, but somehow not 'lost.' The sight struck Jeremy as surreal. No one looked like this anymore. Here was the picture of perfect health and vitality, a time traveler from the past for sure.

The man did not notice Jeremy. He was busy staring up at the monitor, then over at the empty chair.

The old man clucked his tongue and sighed. "My little helpers. Not here waiting for the coming of your lord, I see. Tch tch. Thistle ne'er dew, my children. This will never do."

There was the choking sound of the limo's motor revving again followed by two short blasts from the horn. The old man said something in a foreign tongue, spun on his heel and strode from the room. Jeremy caught a glimpse of a bulge under his jacket as he turned. A weapon. They heard his wingtips a moment later, padding up the escalator.

Judy rose and carefully went back around to the monitor. Jeremy got up and followed her.

"Whyy did you hhold me back?"

She shook her head and frowned, still studying the monitor.

"He's getting back in the car. They're leaving!"

They both ran for the door. Jeremy swept past the woman as soon as there was room to do so. He lunged for the escalators and took them five steps at a time. Two seconds later he was at streetside, flipping down his a visor against the evening twilight.

Judy reached his side just as the limo disappeared around a corner down the block.

"Did you get a good look at him? Who was it?" she asked again.

"Ryynnd, I gguess."

"Who?"

"Greeen Jaacket said 'Rynnd' or something like thhat. I tthink thaat's who that old man was."

Judy shook her head as if he had just given her more information than she could digest at once. "Who?" she asked again, looking puzzled. "Did you just say, 'Green Jacket'?"

He nodded.

"The vampire?" Her inflection was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeaahhh, yourr friend. Youu know? In tthe army coat?"

"Okay, so we're naming them now? And to think, Jeremy, you're the one who didn't want to even feed him. I'm completely dumbfounded."

"Juudy…whatever. Who ccares anyway? He's gone. Thhey're both ggone, now. And wwe don't eeven know wwhy thhat old man wwas here! Ssomething tells me hhe could hhave helped us."

Judy took his hand and pulled him back toward the escalators. With the darkness falling, it was not safe being out in the open. "We need to talk," she said as they walked down into the tunnel. "That name, _Rynd._ Something's going on. I know that name."

"Howww?"

"I'll tell you in a minute. First, see if you can locate Victoria's scent again."

A minute later he was helping her down off the edge of the platform into a waiting rowboat that was moored there in the shadows. The scent trail had come to a stop right beside it. But there were rubbed marks on the side of the platform, evidence of another boat having been tied there as well. Both boats had been bumping against the platform in rhythm to the lapping waves. Flakes of grey paint fluttered into the water when they brushed the concrete with their fingers.

The sound of the moving liquid was like fingernails clawing a chalkboard, but Jeremy clenched his teeth and told himself he could deal with it. He climbed down into the boat and untied the line from the rail. Before he could shove off, however, a sudden movement from the side caught his attention.

Green Jacket ran from the shadows and stopped in front of them. He stood shivering on the platform looking pathetic. "Tttake mmme," he said. "Nneed morrre deeelight."

"Get in," commanded Judy instantly. She shrugged away Jeremy's cold stare. "He needs help. And he may still be useful." She looked at the monster again, still hesitating on the platform. "Get in."

Green Jacket closed his eyes, and pinched his nostrils together with a thumb and index finger. This did not look good. The vampire reared back and took a leap into the air, nearly upsetting the boat and entire crew when he landed in between the two of them.

Jeremy swore. Judy managed to keep the boat from tipping by sculling with one of the oars. The vampire pitched backwards over the seat and into the bottom of the boat. It climbed back up and grimaced happily. Holding out an open palm, the monster in the green jacket accepted a packet of food from Judy.

"Hhey, I'm gonna nneed some morre of that for myself pretty soon," Jeremy growled. He took the oars from Judy and began rowing away from the platform. He glared at the vampire. "Wwhich wway?"

Green Jacket pulled a cleaned plastic shell from between his teeth and swallowed the pasty food. He pointed down the tunnel into the darkness and grunted cheerfully.

_Manhattan. _

So they were finally going back to the beginning. Jeremy had sworn he would never return to that place of terror. But this was for Victoria. For some reason the little girl was still alive, not eaten. Chances were, her kidnappers had other plans for her—maybe more horrible than he could imagine. But as long as there was still hope, he would travel the world to rescue her. He would face every vampire in the city if necessary.

Jeremy ducked his head and began rowing.


	33. Chapter 33 Insight

_This fan-fiction is based on the theatrical release of the 2007 movie __I Am Legend__, starring Will Smith, which is loosely based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. This story and all characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of Robert Neville and any mentions of Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear. _

"Sometimes we get tunnel vision on what our job is, and if your job is to go get that energy out of the ground and make money, sometimes you forget about the guy that lives on the surface."

—Senator Kit Jennings

**Insight**

The rowboat skimmed through the tunnel over dull brackish water. Judy sat in the bow looking forward while Green Jacket hunched, nodding quietly to himself just behind her. Jeremy came next. He had turned himself around in the seat in order to face forward, having noticed the tunnel's ceiling seemed to be closing in on them the further they went. Looking down into the murky depths he could see the soft glow of a submerged light every now and then along the walls of the tunnel. The water level was not rising, instead the tunnel itself was gradually descending below sea level, heading for the East river and Manhattan. Soon they would be ducking to avoid scraping the ceiling. He made another stroke and let the boat glide a little further. So far, so good.

"This thing about Rynd is bothering me a little," said Judy in the darkness. "That was the name of one of Alice Krippin's chief researchers. Dr. Ronan Rynd. In fact, he was her head geneticist."

Jeremy kept rowing. Rynd showing up couldn't be a bad thing, could it? The more doctors still alive the better, right? _I mean, the man might have answers._ If he was still alive, maybe he was working on a cure. Dr. Rynd seemed like a good thing to Jeremy no matter which way he looked at the man, though it did seem strange for him to arrive and leave in a Pillager limousine.

"The thing is," continued Judy, "no one has heard from him in…it is getting close to two years, now. We knew he had been cooperating for at least a short time with the great Dr. Robert Neville in his research efforts." She frowned in the darkness. "But it was difficult keeping track of everyone from the very beginning. Two-way communication started breaking down all over the globe practically the moment after the contagion leapt to world-class. We had our hands full in our own neck of the woods. I made some supply runs into Manhattan and narrowly escaped getting fed to vampires by some cult group of criminal survivors. I didn't hear anything else from Manhattan until there was suddenly this mass exodus—several small bands of travelers all hitting the surrounding countryside at once. We were able to help a few, but I'm afraid most of those people became meal tickets for the growing vampire population because they didn't know what they were doing outside the city. No connections, nothing. It was mass panic."

Judy paused for a moment, the frustration thick in her voice over the memory. Jeremy swallowed. It must have been hard. The exodus probably happened right after he left and found his way back to Queens. The same night that Jonathon was… _No! push that memory back._ _It hurts too much to remember. Did Judy say, 'cult group'? Think about that. What is that about?_

Judy started talking again. "Jeremy, it was total chaos. Everyone, including all medical professionals—both independents and cooperatives from remote locations—we all lost touch with each other. It was the worse possible scenario you could imagine, overnight. I never did hear any more about Dr. Rynd. And Neville himself might have dropped off the grid, except that his radio broadcasts started up after a week or two of confusion.

"He was the first to recover, I think, to figure out how the programming worked at the local radio stations. Maybe he assumed everyone else had died. It would have been a pretty accurate summation. The worst thing was, Dr. Neville got his transmitters powered so high that his programming immediately cluttered up the airwaves and no one else could ever use any of those frequencies again."

"Yyyou keep in ttouch with doctors?" said Jeremy, trying to ease the conversation. It was strange he had never heard of Dr. Rynd before. The image of the bright faced man standing in that generator room was still a glowing memory in his mind's eye. He would have remembered ever meeting him before.

"I try to keep in touch with any survivor I find, Jeremy. I wouldn't call it a _strong_ network—not anymore—but I haven't lost all hope in it." She suddenly brightened a little. "I recently heard about that Survivor colony. They've apparently got a wall around a whole township, Jeremy. In Bethel, Vermont. Scattered survivors are coming out of the woodwork from all over and migrating toward it. My contact said they've actually gathered some real doctors and scientists. Which, by the way, is wonderful news for me. On occasion I still run across someone doing independent study, working on the cure—just about everyone with a kitchen knife and a blender is trying to do something. Now I'll have a central place to send everyone. That's where I see my role right now. Since I'm one of the few to have developed an 'underground-railroad' type of route, I know how to pass through hostile territory, and regularly make supply runs into different areas. I try to keep everyone informed about what everyone else is doing." She shrugged. "The colony at Bethel is a better idea, though. Humanity needs to centralize; it will strengthen our resolve and chances. I'll definitely spread the word about Bethel, if I can ever get Victoria safely there and verify the rumors."

"You wwill. Don't worry." He still wondered why Judy even had Victoria in Queens in the first place. But it was starting to make sense, little by little. It was just like Victoria had told him. Judy was doing her best to keep the girl safe. If people were still dying off or becoming vampires, you wouldn't leave your child behind unless you could really trust your friends. The plague had changed dynamics between people. Trust had become a critical matter with many different levels and layers of its own. In the end, who could you leave your loved ones with?

Judy ducked under a concrete support beam and turned to watch it pass. "It's strange we have any airspace in this tunnel at all." She cringed as the beam bumped and scraped over Green Jacket's bald head. The vampire stirred in his trance but seemed to be okay, so she continued. "Water finds its own level, and by now I'd say we ought to be beneath the East River, probably at least halfway through. We should be completely swamped, but it looks like our boat is going to slide through okay."

Jeremy remembered watching something on the History channel once that mentioned New York City had a number of pumps working to keep the subways dry, since a good portion of the network was actually below sea level, especially during high tides. But with no one around to man the pumps, Judy was right, the tunnels beneath the river should have been full. At some point in the early aftermath of the virus, one or more of those pumps must have been made to run automatically. If a small amount of water was allowed, the pumps could have been rigged with float switches and left to work on their own as the city's population began dying off. And with that generator running back at the last station they'd just left, theoretically the pumps could still be getting power. The puzzling thing was, who was manning the generator? Rynd perhaps? More likely it had something to do with the intelligent vampires.

Jeremy shook his head. It was still weird thinking about creatures existing like Green Jacket—halflings between demons and men. Could you trust them or not? Jeremy caught himself staring at the back of the small vampire's bobbing head and had to laugh. He was doing it again, forgetting that he could easily be fitted into the same category. It was still weird, though. He could accept Judy's explanation of automaticity for simple things like tying shoes, but maintaining a generator and keeping a pictorial log of nightly events on twenty dollar bills? That was just plain scary. So, the question about intelligent vampires was really one of _motive_, not biology. _Why_ were they doing what they were doing? Could they be trusted? Who was directing them?

Judy shrugged at some musing of her own and started talking about Neville again. "I think he is still alive. At least, the radio frequencies stay busy with those pre-recorded messages of his at the top and bottom of every hour. In between those times he has a music rotation playing."

Jeremy stopped rowing for a second. "Is tthat what you call it? _Mmusic_? I gave up listenning to thhe radio a long time ago, all bbecause of that god-awwful rreggae crap." He disgustedly took up the oars again. "No one needs hhelp these dayys losing thheir minds, thank you."

Judy laughed in the darkness. It was good to hear the smile in her voice again. Slowly she was getting her positive attitude back, warming again by the hope they would find her daughter. "You do make a point there," she said. After a bit she added, "As for Dr. Neville, it is almost like he wanted to disappear. People have tried making contact with him, but if he's still over here, there's been no way to reach him…except in person, which is out of the question for most people. I would have tracked him down if I ever had the time; I've been over here a few times to get medical supplies but had to hurry back. Ground zero is not exactly the ideal place to be caught when the sun goes down."

"Riiight."

They both knew that was exactly what they were doing now, paddling into certain death. Ground zero was still the danger zone. No one wanted to go to Manhattan, and yet you could turn on an AM radio any time of the day or night, any place on the dial, and hear Robert Neville's voice forevermore calling survivors to a noon rendezvous with him each day, saying he could keep them _safe_. It was an ironic and sad kind of funny. If the man was still alive, by this time he probably believed he was the last man on earth.

_Because, no one_, thought Jeremy, _at least no one with any knowledge of the plague's history, is going to take Neville up on his invitation, no matter how many times a day the good doctor repeats it._

Another thing struck Jeremy as funny as they continued along. He had always assumed vampires lived in the subterranean tunnels of the city during the daytime. Even the survivors in Manhattan had followed that assumption and tried plugging all subway entrances during their day shifts, hoping to trap the monsters below ground, or to at least cut off some of their points of entry to the street. Now he understood why the vampires probably avoided places like this; It was cold down here, and the sound of trickling water was extremely irritating to raw nerves and sensitive ears. At any rate, with night having fallen, this would most likely be the last place you could expect to meet a hungry vampire. They would all be outside, hunting. Perhaps that was why Green Jacket and his chums hung out here: safety from the others.

Jeremy closed his eyes as he rowed, thinking about Robert Neville again. It was a strange case, but under the circumstances, not unusual. He couldn't say he knew the man well, but Jeremy had certainly been acquainted with him, and knew some of his story. Neville had lost his family the night of the quarantine in a tragic accident. The loss affected him in an understandable way, making him work all that much harder at finding a cure. But toward Jeremy's final days in the Manhattan area, the doctor had begun exhibiting signs of a stress-eroded mentality—a response much the same as that which eventually drove Jeremy and others to escape the city.

One day, Jeremy had overheard a laboratory assistant telling Jonathon about Neville's developing "habits." Apparently, he was beginning to talk to himself a lot, and to his dog. He was pulling away from real people, even becoming sullen and somewhat rude. People were too disappointing, after all…not to mention _disappearing_. This might have been the cause of some of the doctor's more interesting new quirks. The chief virologist had suddenly developed a passion for collecting life-size mannequins. _"Monster bait,"_ he'd explained when questioned, but the going rumor said Neville was starting to have friendly little chats with the mannequins, after-hours when he thought no one else was around.

_Maybe,_ Jeremy thought, _Dr. Neville could see the future._ _People were going. He was determined to stay, just like Rex told me. Maybe he was just making the necessary mental provisions to keep himself going on in the fight._

Jeremy could empathize now. If it had been himself as the last remaining man in Manhattan—a city whose very buildings towered with loneliness and dread, and which had always been more frightening than Queens in monster population—he would have easily gone insane, no questions asked.

This line of thinking suddenly made him shiver. Which scenario was worse?—An island city full of raging lunatic vampires which came out only at night to feed and from whom you needed simply to keep hidden?—Or, a healthy but out-of-his-senses mad scientist-doctor who could turn up anywhere, day or night, and blow your head clean off its shoulders with a sniper rifle from an upper level window…and then dissect the rest of you afterwards in his secret laboratory… and perhaps then make the best of the situation and feed you to his infected pet rats? Jeremy shivered again, nodding. He knew the answer to that one. _Neville. Brrrr_.

"I think we're coming to a station," Judy said, whispering.

Signs along the platform said they had arrived at Lexington Avenue and 63rd Street. The dingy brick walls had once been a bright red with a shiny gloss that reflected light from the strip of fluorescents along the platform. They were now water-stained with cascades of black mold growing here and there. Green Jacket sat up and rubbed his eyes with the backs of dirty knuckles. The intelligent vampire looked from one side of the station to the other and extended a bony finger to trace an imaginary line along the platform's edge. "Nnooo!" he said, growling. "Nnot hhere. Go…fffurther."

They floated silently past the station. Jeremy cringed, knowing they had now reached Manhattan but not really wanting to leave the relative safety of the boat just yet. On the other hand, he was not sure they were doing the right thing following Green Jacket's guidance, either. Did their new _friend_ really know his fellow kidnapper's plan? It seemed to Jeremy that the plan—if there ever had been a plan to begin with—had gone awry. After all, Jeremy and his group had been spotted at least once, following. Maybe plans had changed. In the end, though, he continued rowing down the tunnel, and Judy seemed okay with the decision. She was so trusting.

They went for what seemed hours and passed several stations. Once they had to get out and wade the boat over a sand bar where the water had gotten too shallow. _Low tide?_ At last they came to a final platform and Green Jacket went through his ritual, tracing the shoreline. This time, things were different. He began poking a long, bony finger excitedly toward the side of the tunnel furthest from them. "Thhherrrre," he said, glancing back at Jeremy.

There was another boat already moored there. Jeremy quickly rowed to that spot and put the boat alongside the dock next to the first one. Judy tied their bow off to a handrail and they all climbed from the rowboat. Back on solid ground again, finally. The sign above them said, "W 4th Street."

Jeremy sniffed around and easily picked up Victoria's and her kidnapper's scent trail while Judy climbed down into the first boat to investigate for any more clues. A few seconds later she emerged holding some scraps of duct tape.

"No blood or signs of abuse, thank God. But I found these," she said, sounding encouraged. "My girl is shedding her bonds little by little. Do you think she's trying to leave us a trail of crumbs to follow? Good baby, Victoria!"

Jeremy was ready to go. The scent trail indicated the monster had headed for the nearest escalator with Victoria in tow. Jeremy had been hoping the kidnapper would simply bring the girl to another holding room similar to the one at the previous station, but they could not have been so lucky. On the other hand, if there were hidden cameras here as well, their little rescue party would have already been "made" and the kidnapper would have escaped again. This way, their chances to catch up with him before he got much further with the girl were much better.

Green Jacket began begging for some food again. Jeremy got between him and Judy and aimed his sword at the intelligent beast. "Firrst, help us get the girrl. Then, you miight get lucky."

The vampire's eyes looked as though they would melt with tears, but he bravely nodded compliance and turned to scamper off in the direction of the upper levels. Jeremy watched him go and then held out an open hand to Judy. "I'd better have ssome of that ffood now," he said. "Thhe rowing took ssome strength."

Judy placed a couple of packets into his palm. "Eat up. You deserve it. But let's get going, okay? I don't want Mr. Green Coat giving us away before we ever see the guy."

"It's Green _Jacket_," corrected Jeremy as they began moving again. "And no _Mr. _at the front."

They plodded on toward the escalators and climbed to the next level. The path to the surface took them several minutes, which was hindered by great chunks of concrete and wrecked cars that had been packed down into the top of the entrance. The survivors had not been successful in their attempts of plugging. The intelligent vampires had simply cut a path through the rubble, stone by stone, and cleared a way to the street.

Finally Judy and Jeremy climbed the last set of stairs, squeezing their way through to the surface. Green Jacket was waiting, crouched near the top of the steps, visually scouting the street. Jeremy held Judy back. It was dark out there, and they could hear vampire calls on the wind.

"Juudy, it isn't safe out thhere. Find a place below—a room to hhole up in. I'll get Victoria."

Judy shrugged past him. "I know it isn't safe, but she's my daughter. I've got to go to her." She looked back at him. "Jeremy, Victoria needs us. Come on!"

They found the scent again, leading directly east on Waverly Place toward the park. The monster was no longer attempting to cover his tracks, perhaps thinking he was in the clear. No one would dare follow him here to the city. Jeremy's eyes detected movement up ahead and he grabbed Judy's arm, pulling her down. He laid his sword flat on the cracked pavement, turned and caught hold of Green jacket's coattail, stopping the vampire. The three of them crouched beside a parked car and Jeremy rose for another look.

It was the kidnapper! A large man, holding a limp, child-sized form over his shoulder, moved stiffly down the middle of the street to just beyond the great arch of Washington Square Park. The man walked briskly—a junkie in need of a fix, places to be, someone to see. Suddenly the man came to a stop. He was now not more than a block ahead of them and just standing there. They could see him trembling in the moonlight, looking up at one of the buildings. The big man shifted the child on his shoulder and continued gazing upward.

As Judy and Green Jacket slowly rose from their crouches to his sides, Jeremy couldn't help feeling a buzz of excitement. They had done it. Here was the quarry of the entire night's chase standing only a block ahead of them now. The small form of Victoria moved a little on the man's shoulder. She was still alive! Jeremy nearly broke into a charge. He glanced at Judy and raised his eyebrows.

She shook her head at him and motioned with her hand to wait, her eyes wide in the light of the moon. The three of them stared from their hiding spot at the man in the middle of the street. And suddenly he began calling loudly up to the building.

"Nnnevvvilllle!"

They could hear his voice clearly down the street. Jeremy and Judy looked at each other. Jeremy had not realized it at first, but this was indeed Dr. Neville's old home, just north of the arch near the corner where 5th Avenue teed into Washington square. Did the doctor still live up there? The building looked completely dead, not a light on, the windows all black. Then Jeremy remembered. He himself had helped install the shutters. It was one of the first houses they had vampire-proofed. That all seemed like eons ago now.

"Nnevvvillle! Ccome ouuut! Nevvvilllle!" The man's voice was like gravel. He was obviously in some pain from lack of nutrients. They watched with baited breath as he set the bundle of girl down near his feet. He still held on to her by the hair. "Nnnevvvillle!" He was screeching now—almost in a frenzy.

Jeremy pulled Judy back down and around to the front of the car where they could whisper. "Let me circle arrround. Thhrough the park. Ccome up behind them."

Judy stared at him for a moment and began to nod. She understood. From this distance, if they were spotted, the man might hurt the child before they could get to her, and all would be lost. They had to get closer and attack so fast he would have no time to think of what to do. Before Jeremy could go, however, Judy pulled him back to her. Quickly she embraced him, hugging him close for the first time.

"Be safe," she said simply and kissed him on the cheek.

He took his sword and moved back into the darkness of the trees to get out of the moon's radiance, wondering dizzily about that kiss. _What does it mean?_ With great determination, he pushed the question out of his mind. Victoria was not out of the woods yet; no room for other things now.

Near the arch, Jeremy emerged from the tree line in a crouch on the other side of the kidnapper. The vampire was still carrying on, calling out like a maniac and wrenching the girl around by her hair. It made Jeremy's blood boil to see her mistreated and he was just about to let loose with what he hoped would be a paralyzing scream and run from the shadows at the man, sword raised, when something else stopped him…


	34. Chapter 34 Victoria!

_This fan-fiction is based on the theatrical release of the 2007 movie I Am Legend, starring Will Smith, which is loosely based on the 1954 novel by Richard Matheson. This story and all characters in this chapter are my own, with the exception of Robert Neville and any mentions of Alice Krippin. Any quoted works in this fan-fiction not cited within the body of the text are cited at the end of the chapter in which they appear. _

_"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."_

_–Theodore Roosevelt (1858-1919)_

**Victoria!**

The big infected man was not feeling so well. All that rowing to get here, and every second of it, he could feel the vacuum of his missing Delight, sucking the very nerves from his body. It hurt. He struggled just to breathe. The combination of drug and nourishment could ease the pain, quiet the voices in his head. But he was long overdue for Delight now. Withdrawals and cramps were setting in. The last time this happened he had almost gone vampire. If it had not been for Dr. Rynd rescuing him at the last moment, he would have been a goner. But not this time… This time Rynd had stood him up.

One simple thought tortured the large man's mind. Why hadn't he thought of coming to Neville sooner? Night had now fallen. And with it, the skinny black doctor's courage had gone into hiding. It was useless for sure. The man would not come out, no matter how much yelling…

The sound of boots clacking rapidly across pavement toward him brought the large man to attention. He spun his head and looked. There in the moonlight was the girl's mother—alone—coming toward him with bare hands and a look of fight in her eyes. She had tracked him!

Instantly a feeling of sheer panic seized him. He staggered backward, surprised at the woman's audacity. But he caught himself. _Wait._ She was half a block away. And he still had hold of her daughter. He looked down at the little girl. Easily, he could break the child's neck right now…or sink his begging teeth into it just the same. This, he had been craving the entire night. He thought about it for a second longer, relishing the image, and then realized the girl's mother was now quickening her pace toward him. Oh well, he could deal with a single puny woman.

Swiftly as he could, the man pulled a roll of tape from the pocket of his jacket and peeled back the end. There was enough left to made a quick turn around the girl's ankles, which he did, then pushed her down to the pavement. He stepped over the fallen girl toward the mother and the woman slid to a stop thirty feet from him. Predictably she began circling to her left, moving toward the same building which he had only moments before been vainly serenading.

What in the world did this bogger molly think she could do to _him_? Next to his great bulking muscles, she looked like a tiny house cat. He would have them both—the cat and her kitten. _Ah, more bargaining power._ Rynd or Neville, either one, would pay dividends for the healthy girl. This much he had planned. But how much could he get for the woman? _Perhaps a whole mountain of Delight!_

The woman had worked herself between him and Neville's building. She reached into her pocket and withdrew some kind of metal cylinder. The infected man breathed in relief. At first he had thought she was reaching for a firearm. Sure, guns no longer held the same fear for him that they once had—he had been shot several times since getting infected and found he healed efficiently enough—but on the other hand, he did not like the way they felt, either. Bullets had a way of stinging.

"Wwhhhat doo yyou want, Juudy? Yyou look at mme like I hhave ssomethhing of yours."

"You know my name." She stated it calmly, but it was a question. He could hear the surprise in her voice.

She didn't remember. _Ha!_ Had he changed that much? The thought of it nearly drove him mad right then. Did she not know all the outrage she'd caused? His mind was already fuzzing over from physical withdrawals, but, digging deep, he managed to come up with the details. Ah, yes. A very nasty set of tricks she'd pulled on him all those years back. Escaping captivity, for starters. Wounding some of his men in the exchange. Then, worst of all, the woman had come back later and stolen some of his latest captives!

It wasn't fair. She should pay for those hurts she'd caused. In fact, when he thought about it, maybe this woman standing here in front of him so brazenly right now, was the cause of _all_ his suffering. She'd hurt his score way back then. And getting a fix of Delight at the right moment was like making points in a game of strategy, a leverage of the wills. He had done well for himself otherwise, rising in rank and keeping his intelligence while the others fell behind. But Judy had cost him. And Judy should pay.

"Yyou evil little wwench!" He could no longer stand it. The infected man lunged toward the woman suddenly and she quickly jumped back, putting a parked car between them. Still, she clung to the cylinder as if it could somehow save her from him. She circled when he went left, keeping the vehicle in the middle, and holding the can up at an angle toward him. He could now see it had some kind of nozzle on it. The device looked somewhat familiar. Maybe it _was_ a weapon, the way she was pointing it at him.

"Wwhat are you hhiding for? Yyou wwant thhhe girrl or nnot?"

He jumped for the top of the car and landed in a squatting position glaring down right above her. The woman muffled a scream. She shoved the nozzle end of the can up into his face. But for some reason she hesitated, her eyes darting for just a second to something behind him. The moment was more than enough. He reached out and deftly swatted the can from her hands. It clanked uselessly to the sidewalk and rolled beneath the rear of the car. A delicious look of horror came across the woman's face and she began backing away. But, now curiosity had gotten the better of the man. What was going on back there, anyway? He turned to see what was happening with his girl.

The situation had changed. A skinny man now stood in the middle of the street, tall and straight, calmly meeting his gaze with cool eyes. There was a silly pair of oversized goggles pushed up on the man's forehead, making him look like a four-eyed giant insect.

The large man on the vehicle blinked, slowly reopening his eyes. The apparition was still there. The skinny insect man seemed to have appeared silently from no where. Squinting at the creature now the large man realized this was the same man that Judy had with her before. He'd watched their advance on camera, back in the warehouse and some in the tunnel. _The lab rat._ _The little rodent!_ Why had he assumed they would not follow him this far?

There was a shining long blade in the lab rat's hands which slowly began to rise until its tip was pointing directly at him. The large man's mouth suddenly felt dry. He struggled to swallow, glancing down at the skinny one's feet. The girl had also been cut free and was now clinging to the man's waist, sobbing.

"Mama!" the girl screamed.

The infected man spun back to the woman. She had disappeared completely. _Not again!_ Wildly, he looked about but didn't find her. Turning again to face the man, the situation finally dawned on him. The skinny little freak was still standing there, sword drawn, waiting for him.

This night just kept going from bad to worse. Heavily, the large man got down from his perch and stood panting next to the car for a second. So, the lab rat had finally gone and gotten himself some guts. No matter. The rodent was going to die tonight.

The front bumper of the older model car he'd just been squatting on happened to be hanging loose. The big man reached down and tore it the rest of the way off. Hefting it like a great sickle, he took a few swinging steps toward the little man and smiled as the rodent stumbled back, studying this new development. _Ah, not so brave when your opponent is packing, too, eh?_ The large man began moving toward the sword wielder, carefully circling to the left, carelessly swinging the bumper like a pendulum. He would wait until just the right moment and then spring. With the little girl hanging on those skinny hips of his, the little guy wouldn't be able to react fast enough. It would all be over rather quickly.

Suddenly the woman burst from the front bumper of the car as he circled by. So, that's where she had gone. He turned just in time to see her shoving that insistent nozzle into his face again and was about to remark that he was getting tired of her doing that. Only, this time there was a _whoosh!_ And from the end of the nozzle a fog came out and enveloped him, filling his eyes and delicate pores.

Indescribable pain shot through his senses, clear up his nostrils, stabbing into his brain like twin daggers. It didn't help that he had also gasped in surprise a little, inhaling the cloud into his lungs. He staggered backward, blinded and choking. This was not good. No, indeed. This night was definitely headed in a downward spiral.

He could hear the swordsman moving smoothly toward him across the pavement near his lowered head. Somehow he had to get away. But where could he go? He was blind. He could not breathe. Nothing else mattered. The passages in his lungs were swelling, and suddenly the physical withdrawals kicked in as well, bearing down on his muscles all at once in a tight contraction. He felt his knees give; then the hard pavement was caressing his cheek…

* * *

They stood over the fallen giant for a minute watching him trying to get his breath. It was obvious there was something seriously wrong with the guy's health, besides just the pepper spray. Jeremy was in favor of immediately running him through with the sword, getting to the heart of the matter, but Judy held him back.

"I think I recognize him!" she said, sounding surprised as she held Jeremy's sword back, pressing it flat against his chest with one hand. She clutched Victoria to herself with the other. "He hasn't been in his right mind for years. I think I know him." She stared up into Jeremy's eyes. "He lives. Okay? He's going to live."

The absurdity of the moment swept over Jeremy. The woman was up to more of her salvation stuff._ A regular Betsy Ross…_

"Juudy, yyou're crazy. You know that, rright? Thhis time you've ccompletely losst your mind." Jeremy stood back, disgusted. But he released the sword. He didn't want to cut her hands trying to tear past her.

Somewhere in the near distance a vampire howled.

Judy tossed the bladed weapon across the pavement beyond them. The sword spun to a stop next to the parked car. Next, she reached into her jacket once more and pulled out yet another long cylinder. This object was easily recognizable as a hypodermic syringe, but looked like something more designed for horses than people. Jeremy remembered having seen Dr. Neville tranquilize a vampire with one like it. Judy pulled the protective cap off, exposing a gleaming three-inch silver needle, its diameter roughly the size of a toothpick.

"We'll bind him," she said, and she stooped next to the large man's neck and held the syringe to his skin. "We'll _feed_ him!" she shouted, plunging the needle in and immediately depressing the plunger with the palm of her hand. Jeremy and Victoria both jumped, startled by the violent movement. They watched as Judy injected the entire contents of the shot's reservoir into the large man's body. He immediately stiffened and, for a few seconds, fought to rise before coming to rest again in the street.

Judy had jumped away from him. Her shoulders sagged in resignation as she surveyed her work. Slowly she lowered her hand and opened it, allowing the spent syringe to fall. She took her daughter in her arms now, looking right at Jeremy. "...And we'll bring him back, keep him caged until a cure is found. Okay? We'll get all the information out of him that we can about what has been going on around here."

She held little Victoria back and bent to look her over. "My baby, are you hurt badly?"

The girl did not reply. She buried her face in her mother's jacket; her tiny body shook visibly in the moonlight. The sight both melted Jeremy's heart and made him angry. This monster lying at his feet was going to live? And even worse, he was supposed to accept this, and to aid Judy in keeping him? For a few seconds, he considered how satisfying it might feel to feed the kidnapper to those hungry vampires the intelligent ones had been holding in cages back at the warehouse.

Jeremy stood there gaping as Judy walked her daughter down the street, back toward the subway at west 4th. She was starting to call instructions behind her to him, telling him to roll the large man onto his side so he could breathe, and to look for something to use as a stretcher.

A commotion down the street further to the east grabbed everyone's attention and cut Judy off mid-sentence. Jeremy looked in time to see a pack of Manhattan vampires rounding the corner two blocks away. A collective howl suddenly rocked the night air as the vampires pinpointed their location and immediately began swarming up the street toward them, noses to the wind. Jeremy's blood ran cold.

What happened next caught everyone off guard. Jeremy was already beginning to move toward Judy and Victoria when a sudden burst of green erupted from the north side of the street, and Green Jacket appeared before him wielding his dropped martial arts sword. For some reason Jeremy had forgotten all about the fiend.

The small vampire raised the sword above his head, let out a hideous banshee-type scream, and rushed at the body of the fallen larger man. Jeremy stumbled sideways in horror as Green Jacket leapt to the top of the man's mid-section and went into a frenzied roar, shaking the sword above his head. The little vampire stood there fearlessly, facing the approaching vampires.

_"Éirrrre Abu!"_ Green Jacket chanted. "_Do ghhhrá ár dtír dhúcáis! Do Éirrre!"_ He planted his feet into the sleeping giant and stood rising and falling on the heaving chest.

Jeremy put the image behind him, rushed to Judy and Victoria, grabbed their hands and pulled them away. The subway entrance was their best bet, but it was too far. Instead, he lunged them toward 5th Avenue into the shadows. Behind them, the reverberations of dozens of heavy bare feet thudded up the street as the vampire horde rushed to meet the raging green little monster.

A brand new Shelby GT Mustang sat on the corner. A loose and flapping sticker on the rear window was what caught Jeremy's attention. Besides a few dents and dings in the red paint, the car looked as if it had just come from the showroom floor.

_Neville!_ The Mustang had to be one of the doctor's vehicles. Jeremy stopped. It was a chance, but he had just gotten a flash of brilliance. No room for error now, but on the other hand they really didn't have a lot of options, either. He swung off to the side, drawing Judy back over to the car, and looked inside. _Yes!_ There in the middle of the backseat sat a humble jug of white vinegar, plainly half full.

He breathed a prayer and yanked on the door handle. It swung open to them like a red carpet welcome. Victoria and Judy tumbled in and immediately hit the floor, hiding. They knew the drill. Jeremy snatched up the jug, slammed the door on the womenfolk and began showering the car and surrounding area with the vinegar. He could see Judy's pleading eyes, glinting in the moonlight up at him from the dark interior, but it was no use. He could not take the chance of hiding inside with them. He shook his head at her, their eyes meeting for a second, then he lifted the jug to his lips and allowed some of the liquid to run into his mouth. The reaction was involuntary, he sputtered it out, blowing the tiny molecules of vinegar into the air around the car. Hopefully it would cover everything. He backed away along the path they had taken, still spitting to get rid of the burning in his mouth and shaking the remaining droplets from the jug over the street as he went.

It would be a miracle if this worked.

He knew he was about to die. The worst kind of death. Jeremy turned slowly back toward the vampires which were nearly upon Green Jacket. The small vampire shrieked and waved the sword. _"Éirrrre Abu!"_

_Brave little bloodsucker, _thought Jeremy,_ he doesn't deserve to die alone_.

Two bounds and Jeremy was standing at Green Jacket's side. He tossed aside the empty bottle and steeled himself against the coming impact of bodies. Grimly they faced the vampires together, just as the horde reached them.

And Jeremy wished just for a moment he could have seen how things turned out for Judy and Victoria…


End file.
